The Amends in Vain
by moonswirl
Summary: HEART & FIRE #3. Sequel to Dichotomy. Brennan and Booth work a case that only gets more complicated as they investigated, especially for Brennan, as the victim is identified.
1. Prologue: To Seek a Whole

Title: **The Amends in Vain  
**Sequel to: 1. The Princess in the Tower; 2. Dichotomy (both posted here as well)  
Author: moonie  
Pairings: Booth/Brennan, Jack/Angela  
Rating: PG to PG-13  
Spoilers: Not so much... mostly rests on season 1 info... Also means no Cam, and still some Goodman :D  
Disclaimer: Wish it was mine, but it's not... honest )  
A/N: Okaay here we go again :) At this time I am midway through writing chapter 5 so... yeah :) And as always, updates will come on every MONDAY. Chapter 1 will come then )  
A/N2: Five months after Dichotomy. 

**PROLOGUE - To seek a whole**

"There was a bunch of the marshmallows that fell right in the fire. It was kind of a mess..."

"It must have smelled good," Hodgins laughed.

"Well, for a while, sure. But then," she made a disgusted face, throwing in a shudder for good measure.

"I see," Hodgins chuckled as he sat by the poolside while the visiting Meg Montrose paddled on back and forth in the water, recounting the camping trip she'd gone on with her Uncle Mike.

"I usually dropped them just shy of the flames. That just got frustrating, so close yet very unsalvageable," Angela commented as she trailed in to join them. Meg laughed before diving under to swim along. Angela came to sit at Hodgins' side.

"We should go camping," he turned to her.

"Mm... Can't we just rough it in the pool house..." He looked at her. "Ha, you fell for that," she chuckled. "I could go for a little nature," she nodded. "If we ever get the time..."

"We'll make some," he assured her with a smile.

The trial period officially ended fifty-two days after it began, at which time Angela agreed to 'properly' move out of her old place and in with Hodgins. He was one happy man.

There was an instance or three where the decision was challenged through arguments. Nevertheless, they always managed to come through to the other side that much stronger.

Meg was on the last day of her second visit to Hodgins' since she'd left town to live with her uncle. The first visit, three months before, had been harder in comparison. Anywhere they went had just reminded her of everything that happened less than a year ago. Eventually she had asked to go see them... the graves. Her sister's, her mother's, her father's...

Right from the time where she'd called to ask about this second visit, Hodgins could hear in her voice how time was helping her, how she was moving along and making a life for herself. And when she'd arrived... It could have been Ellie standing there... the freedom she'd experienced these past few months had made her into a person that would have made the elder Montrose daughter proud.

"Coming?" Angela eventually stood, shaking her sandals from her feet as she approached the pool.

"In a bit," he promised.

"You better," she pointed, turning to face him as she stepped off and dropped into the water with a minimal splash. Meg chuckled as she swam to approach Angela. "Come on, I'll race you," Angela told the fourteen-year-old. She laughed, and they were off. Hodgins watched them, forever in awe that he'd have Angela. She'd been indispensable in giving Meg the comfort and ease that she needed in these visits.

x

_THE NEXT MORNING_

"Close it off!" the ranger told the men as they made sure the campers didn't wander into the area they'd closed off. The problem was that with this type of situation, it was hard to make sure they had the whole area. For all they knew, someone would find more pieces.

The first had been found courtesy of a family's dog. They'd been setting up camp when the dog wandered off. One of the children, the eldest, had been tasked with going after him. After calling for old Scrappers for a while, the teen had found him. It wasn't the only thing he'd found. It took only a moment to realize it was an arm even though there was practically no skin or much else left on it. The boy had then called to his family.

As reinforcements came in, it didn't take long before more pieces started being found. A second arm, its hand... a foot, a leg... Finally, they'd started making calls.

The Jeffersonian's van pulled up to the scene, soon joined by Booth's car. He got out, followed by Brennan. They were let through, joined by Zack and Hodgins. The first two went one way, the last two went the other. Booth and Brennan were shown to where the pieces were gathered.

"Who knows how long they've been out there... The sun, the animals..." the ranger explained.

"I'll see about that," Brennan crouched, examining it all. After putting on some gloves, she began to organize them.

"Is it... all one person?" the ranger asked, covering his nose and mouth.

"I think so... Female... I'd say early thirties."

"Have they found any of her belongings?" Booth asked. Some parts of the clothes still hung on.

"Anything we came across has been located on a map of the area. We didn't risk moving anything. But it's all there." Brennan stood, looking down.

"So... where's her head?" she asked, her gaze finding Booth. He looked down as well.

That was the one missing piece, other than a part of the leg.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 1: To Get Started

_A/N: At this time I've just started chapter 6 :) _

**CHAPTER 1 - To Get Started**

"I didn't see it," Zack insisted as he and Hodgins made their way into the lab.

"I know. It wasn't..." Zack moved along with the box from the site. Hodgins sighed to himself as Angela spotted this and walked over.

"Again?" she asked. Hodgins nodded. "I'll talk to him."

"Yeah," he nodded, then, "Later." He pointed to indicate as the pieced up body was brought in.

"So... still no head?" Angela asked Brennan.

"No head. Could the killer have kept it?" Booth responded and asked.

"We don't even know yet that there's a killer," Brennan pointed out.

"Well..." Angela indicated the body.

"It's likely the body was torn apart by animals," Zack explained as he began to lay out the pieces on an adjoining slab.

"Great," Angela frowned.

"The head wasn't manually cut away, but the neck is broken. Possible cause of death," Brennan spoke up.

"What are the odds you've got fingerprints left?" Booth asked. Brennan went to the hands.

"I'm not finding any..." she halted as she looked to one of the fingers.

"What is it?" Booth took a step. "Is it a print?"

"More like the opposite. I think they were... burned off."

"So no prints, no head... Jane Doe it is," Booth nodded. "Unless there's a driver's license or an ID of some sort in there," he turned to Zack.

"Not here," Zack revealed.

"Dump job?" Hodgins suggested.

"Hopefully, they'll find the head," Brennan went on. "Until then, we've got clothes. We can start gathering some information."

"Can you figure out how long she's been out there?" Booth asked.

"We'll get on it," Hodgins nodded.

A few hours went by, the whole group working through what they had on their Jane Doe. The question remained whether they'd manage to identify this woman, if her head would ever be found.

"Anything?" Brennan asked Booth as she saw him enter her office.

"No head," he shook his. "No head, no bags... I've got nothing."

"Sorry," she shrugged, then pointed to a file on her desk. Booth stepped up. "She's been up there a week."

"So she could definitely be a missing person. That's good. Not that she was missing or that she's dead..."

"As far as we've seen, there aren't any other major injuries apart from the broken neck."

"Are we talking homicide, accident..."

"Well I might say accident, but the fingerprints being burned off tend to point to the first."

"Alright," he nodded.

"Angela's looking through missing persons. We established approximate height, build, race, age..."

"Good, at least one of us is getting somewhere," Booth nodded. Brennan smiled. "Not that there's a problem with that," he added.

"No, of course not," she stood, walking to the front of the desk.

"We'll be running some more tests, see if we might find anything that could help us identify her, or at least narrow down the search."

"Good, okay. I'm on my way back to the site, but I wanted to drop by first to say hi." Brennan smirked. "Hi..." he gave her a look and she sat back against the edge of her desk.

"Don't give me that look, we said not in here," she 'scolded.'

"Who said anything about... anything?" he asked innocently.

"So don't give me that look," she pressed. He persisted for a moment longer, then dropped it.

"Alright," he turned to head out.

"Booth!" He stopped, looking back. She frowned/smirked and held up one finger. Quickly he crossed the office ground and kissed her before heading out.

"Later, Bones!" he called out. She smiled as she watched him go. After a moment, she stood back and grabbed her lab coat before heading over to the platform.

It was almost weird to think of it this way, but what had happened with Frank Kinsley Jr and the hostage situation had helped them.

Before that point, something had been on their mind - no matter the months that passed, they lived in secrecy. It may have been nice to have it all to them, but it could only last so long before problems would spring forth. Running around, pretending like they were still common partners was good for laughs, but they were required to be on top of their game, aware of where they were and who they were with. It was hard to be in this state of new love and to have it all locked back. Sure, they were professionals and they did their job right. They didn't let it interfere. But still they were trapped.

Then in the hours where Brennan had been held hostage, secrets had just become obstacles they couldn't afford. Once Goodman, Hodgins, and Zack were brought into the loop, it wasn't long before the floodgates were blown wide open. Once it became clear that it wouldn't interfere with their work, the subject was passed along and things truly got back on track.

They were happy, and that was truly all that mattered in the end. There came wrinkles here or there, but then that was nothing out of the ordinary when it came to the two of them. They never lasted any longer than they did before. On some level, they were glad for them - it meant they weren't expected to be anyone but themselves.

"Dr. Brennan, there's something you should see," Zack approached her as she walked up the steps.

"What is it?" she asked. He handed her some test result print-outs. She read through. "Oh."

"What does it say?" Angela asked.

"She was going to die either way if this hadn't happened..." She looked back to Zack. "Can we rule out suicide?" He went to the table.

"She didn't jump, there isn't any damage to suggest it."

"Not to mention the location," Angela added, to which Zack nodded. "At least it narrows the search down." After a moment, she looked up to Brennan, nodding toward Zack.

There was still a different air about things when it was just the three of them. Immediately it would bring on memories of that day, not just the fear and the danger but also the way they'd depended on one another. They were a sub-group within the unity of their group. With just a glance, they could draw this state of mind - such as that moment.

"How are you doing today?" Angela asked Zack. He paused, knowing what she was truly asking. He put down the left hand he'd picked up, looking over his shoulder toward Angela.

"Hodgins told you about the war?"

"Hodgins tells me a lot of things," was her answer.

"It's happening again?" Brennan asked, concerned.

"Only sometimes," he finally admitted.

Of the three of them, Zack had been the one with a more involved recovery process, one that was turning out as ongoing, still. They hadn't realized the extent of it until after they'd returned to work. He tried to hold it off for a while, but soon the truth of it all just came spilling out.

Generally, he was fine. But then 'generally' didn't include instances of the sudden, loud, and startling kinds. The first one had been as a tray had been knocked to the ground by accident. Everyone jumped, as was to be expected. Zack froze, and they could see it in his eyes... such terror.

When they finally got him talking, he told them about nightmares that had been cutting his nights in restless pieces, about how he'd been in therapy. They worried for a while that he might leave, but he promised them that it wouldn't come to that.

"I don't want to go back to therapy," he sighed.

"You won't," Brennan nodded, taking a couple of steps.

"Not unless you decide to. Otherwise we won't say anything, neither will Hodgins," Angela promised. "If you ever want to talk, we'll be there," she smiled. He nodded and turned back to the remains.

"She didn't kill herself," he stated.

"Alright," Brennan took the cue, as did Angela, and they got back to work.

x

"Time of death would be eight days ago," Brennan told Booth over the phone. "Maybe the ranger saw something, or heard from someone who saw something."

"Well I'll ask," he nodded. "We found more torn clothes, still no head."

"Send whatever you've got, we'll..."

"Already on its way." She paused, and he knew she was smiling. "I'll let you know if I find out anything," he told her before hanging up.

"Agent Booth?" He turned to find the ranger. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. According to the lab, the woman died eight days ago. Do you recall anything..." The man thought.

"Just a couple of kids, some loudmouth, a couple from out of town..."

"Everyone got home okay?"

"As far as I can tell," he nodded. "Saw them all come and go. Other than that, I don't remember there being anything."

"What about the day after that?" That gave him a pause of a different kind. "What?" Booth asked.

"Tommy Tank... Uh, Thomas Walden. Comes around every so often. He's a big guy, likes to talk. He came by last week..."

"Not so talkative?" Booth asked.

"Could just have had a bad day," the ranger went on.

"Maybe someone else had one on his account."

x

Once Booth had an address, he went in search of this 'Tommy Tank'. The nickname wasn't inspiring any confidence in him... maybe that was why he hadn't even bothered to think about bringing Brennan along. Besides, her place was the Jeffersonian, where she could find more information to have as he met with the Tank.

He knocked at his door and waited three times back and forth. As he was about to leave, he spotted an old woman standing at the door to her own apartment with a fat caramel-colored cat purring in her arms.

"Hi," Booth nodded to her.

"Are you looking for Tommy, Mister..."

"Booth. Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI," he waved his badge. "You know Mr. Walden?"

"Everyone knows Tommy in this building," she nodded and smiled, scratching her cat's head. "Is he in trouble?"

"I just need to ask him some questions. I'm hoping he may have seen something that could help us find a murderer." Her jaw went slack.

"Yes, he'll be at Billie's Diner at this time. He's shy with her. He won't speak up," she laughed to herself. A shiver ran up Booth's spine. His mind suddenly wondered if thier Jane Doe could be this Billie. If he made a move, and she denied him, and he got angry...

"Where's the diner?"

After getting the directions, he left the woman his card and headed to the diner. When he walked in, a quick scan of the room led to find one man sitting at the counter, sipping coffee. Booth could see why they called him Tommy Tank. He made his way up to the counter, sitting on the stool next to him.

"Coffee to go, please?" he asked the waitress. He turned to look Tommy's way. "Excuse me... Are you the one they call 'Tommy Tank'?" He laughed heartily.

"That's me. Who's asking?" Booth flashed his badge. "Ah," Tommy nodded. "How can I help?"

"You like camping, Mr. Walden?"

"I do," he confirmed.

"Your last trip was a week ago?" He took a moment, but finally nodded. "What about the day before your trip?" Of all responses possible, that got a smile out of him.

"I was with her," he looked to the right, where a woman stood at the register. Instantly, Booth knew who she was.

"Billie," he spoke up, as that part of his hunch fell apart. Tommy nodded. "All day?"

"Two days before my trip, Billie got a call. Her cousin was in the hospital, she'd had an accident. I drove her to the hospital, stayed around in case she needed me. I was there through the night, and the whole day after that. She finally pulled through. After that, I needed to get away, clear my head. So I packed my truck and headed out."

"Did you see anything while you were out there?" Booth asked him, confident enough that he wasn't their guy. Tommy thought.

"Not that I can think of," he shrugged. "It was a warm night, warm day... peaceful, as far as I saw."

"For some at least," Booth looked to his cup on the counter. "Thanks," he nodded to Tommy.

x

"This just isn't right..." Angela shook her head as she watched Hodgins work.

"Other than the missing head, I assume?"

"Things were already this bad for her, and then... I mean, I'm not saying there's a time where it's right, but..."

"I get it," he promised. She smiled and looked down.

"How are we doing?" she asked of the item that had been grasping Hodgins' attention since they'd found it tucked inside a worn and viscously covered pocket in what was likely blue jeans before sharp teeth got grabby with it.

A neatly folded piece of paper, one they hoped would sustain being carefully pulled open in this state... and, with more hope, contain some clue of who their victim was.

"So close, so far away," Hodgins assessed. "What are the odds it will say 'Hi, my name is so-and-so'?"

"About as likely as featuring a map to the head," Angela shrugged. Hodgins looked at her. "Name, definitely," she amended to a positive path.

"Yeah..." he got back to work.

"Missing persons is coming up empty. You'd think someone in her condition would... stick out."

"Unless she didn't have anyone to declare her missing," Hodgins looked back.

"I don't even want to think about that option."

"We might not have a choice."

"She shouldn't have been alone. She couldn't... She might... might have missed some doctor's appointment, forgotten to pick up a prescription, someone would notice."

"Okay, calm down," Hodgins went up to her, putting one hand on either of her arms. She stopped, took a breath. "I'll finish with this, then we can make some calls."

"Yeah," she breathed and smiled. "Thank you," she nodded.

"Not a problem." After a moment, he moved back to the paper. Being in the middle of everything that had happened to their Jane Doe after her death, it wasn't something they could risk damaging. "If she was from out of town, maybe we just haven't gotten to her yet. And if she was international..." Angela nodded as he spoke.

"You're right... Yeah..."

"Well it looks like I was wrong about one thing," he turned back to her. "Her name's not on here." She stepped up.

"You got it."

"The text seems to have survived," he confirmed. Both observed it.

"What's all this?" Angela frowned.

"Besides the obvious?" Then he noticed her pause. "What?" he looked back to the paper.

"Go get Brennan. I'll call Booth."

"What..."

"Jack, look," she pointed to one area. He looked, and soon he understood. He turned and hurried to do as Angela asked.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 2: To Mend the Broken

_A/N: At this time I've just started chapter 7 :)_

**CHAPTER 2 - To mend the broken**

"Hey," Booth met up with Brennan as he entered the lab. She was heading to meet Hodgins and Angela as he was. "What's up? Angela called, asked I come in. Actually, she sort of demanded it." Brennan laughed. "Did they find something?"

"I don't know, I imagine they did. I was finishing up with something, I haven't seen them. How's it going over there?"

"Slowly. When I left, they were talking about dragging the lake."

"It could have ended up there," Brennan nodded.

"That's if the killer didn't keep it..."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she frowned. "What are you thinking?"

"No head hunter," Booth shook his head. "It's there, we just haven't found it." Brennan nodded. "You just wait and see."

When they walked in, Booth and Brennan found Hodgins and Angela huddled at the computer, whispering. "Hey?" Brennan called them to attention. They looked up as one, first to Brennan, then Booth, then each other. "What'd you find? Is it the paper?"

"It's a list," Hodgins started.

"A list of what?" Booth asked. Angela stood, retrieving the paper laid out on a tray.

"Initials, addresses... We've been doing research. Even if we didn't know from the fifth entry, it's legit."

"The fifth entry?" Brennan frowned. Angela presented them with the list. They looked to the initials.

_BC CC PL SLG TB HS LT BY_

The fifth match of initials and address - TB - made them stop short. "That's me," Brennan confirmed what they already knew.

"So it's possible this woman knew you, and you..." Angela started. "Anyone come to mind?"

"No, I... I don't know..." she thought.

"What about the others?" Booth asked. Angela turned to the computer.

"We've got the first two identified so far. Number one, 'BC', gave us the runaround. Then we found out why - she's been dead for three years. Her name was..." she squinted to recall the name. "Brianna Costa."

Brennan's eyes turned up from the sheet at that, though she remained quiet.

"Number two, as it turned out, might have been helpful for us to figure that out. 'CC'..."

"Cristina Costa, her twin," Brennan spoke up, still somewhat tranced. The other three looked at her. "Brianna's dead?" her voice caught.

"Hey..." Booth put a hand to her arm. She looked back at him for a moment, turning to Angela.

"Can I..." she indicated the list.

As Angela nodded, Brennan took a couple of steps back as her eyes scanned the row on the left - the initials. Faces flashed through her mind's eye, faces blurred by time but suddenly crisp anew.

"Perry... Langham," she started, her voice showing the hunt her mind was racing. "Sara Lynn Gill... H-Harley Severino, Leigh Tanner, Brighton Young. The room was silent after that. Angela retrieved the tray from Brennan.

"Are you okay?" Angela asked.

"I haven't... I hadn't thought about them for so long..." was her response.

"Who are they?" Hodgins asked.

"They were in foster care with her," Booth rightly guessed. "Our Jane Doe might have been as well."

"What could she have wanted with them... with us?" Brennan wondered aloud.

"Probably won't know until we've IDed her," Hodgins replied. "Do you remember which home?"

"The first... That's the one I remember the most." She turned to Booth as a thought came to her. "The others, they could be in danger."

"Or they could be the danger. Either way, we'll bring them in, see what we might get from them," Booth nodded.

"We really need to find that head..." Angela sighed.

x

Once they'd left the lab, Booth and Brennan drove to the FBI offices. If things happened as they'd called for, they'd have the phone numbers that went along with those addresses by the time they arrived.

In the car, both passenger and driver were quiet for a time. Whatever questions Booth may have had, none were pressing enough to warrant rushing for answers where Brennan wasn't ready. He was well aware that the topic as a whole was a sensitive one for her to approach. He only ever knew bits and pieces about it.

"When you call them..." she finally started. "Don't tell them about me..."

"I won't," he assured her. "Will you be in for the meet?" She looked out the window - she didn't have that answer yet. "Whatever you decide, I'll back you up."

"I know you will," she breathed out.

As they arrived, Booth got to work. Brennan sat across from him the whole time, hearing his side of the conversation. Out of those six, three said they'd come in within an hour or so, one said she'd make it once she tracked down a babysitter, and two went to voicemail. Booth left a message.

"And now we wait." Once again, Brennan released a breath. "Can I get you anything? Maybe those cookies from the vending machine?" he tried.

"I'm okay," she smiled, "on both parts."

"You know, I'd say I understand what you're feeling right now, but that's probably not the case."

"When I left that home, I was just... Some of the kids would tell these stories about places where they'd been. I guess in a way it prepared me for the worse if it would ever come. Compared to what they'd tell me, I didn't get it so bad."

A few minutes later, an agent came knocking. He informed them that Harley Severino was waiting in interrogation. Booth looked to Brennan. "I'll just wait here," she eventually told him. He didn't force the subject, moving on.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"He was ten years old when I knew him. He and his older sister landed in the system when he was eight, after their mother died. They were split up."

"Okay." He took a moment. "If you change your mind, you know where we'll be." She nodded and he left.

She sat back there, in silence. She was still trying to process the whole situation. The thing she just kept coming back to was why she couldn't bring herself to make her involvement known to those on the list. This kind of thing didn't get to her, not usually. Except here... she wasn't just on the outside of the matter, looking in... she was on the inside as well. Would she be looking out as well as in?

x

When Booth reached the interrogation room, he found Mr. Severino sitting and waiting at the table, practically nodding off right from his chair. "Coffee?" Booth called him to attention. Harley looked up, chuckling after a moment as though he'd finally heard.

"Wouldn't hurt," he nodded. As Booth sat, he adjusted his posture. "Still adjusting to the night shift."

"Yeah, that'd be a pain," Booth agreed. "Well thank you for coming in."

"Sure, no problem. I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand why you needed to see me."

"Just a few questions. We found your address on a murder victim." That got his attention.

"What?"

"We don't know who she is. We haven't been able to identify her." He got agitated at that. "Mr. Severino?"

"My girlfriend, I... I need to call her, make sure she's..."

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"Yesterday morning... I was coming in from work, she was heading out..."

"It's not her," Booth reassured him. "This woman's been dead for about a week." Harley relaxed.

"Can I see her? Maybe I can..." Booth shook his head.

"Trust me, that won't help. But I can tell you what we know. Caucasian, early thirties, and... she was terminally ill." Harley shook his head.

"Sorry, no one I know."

"Alright. Just one more thing, this is... routine, so we can eliminate possibilities, we need to know your whereabouts for last Tuesday and Wednesday, if someone can confirm..."

"Alibi," Harley nodded.

"Standard," Booth nodded back.

x

When the phone rang, Brennan realized her mind had been wandering off. By reflex, she reached to answer. After a moment, remembering where she was, "Agent Booth's office?"

"Hello, I got a message asking to call back as soon as possible?" a woman's voice explained. In a moment she understood who it was and she sat up.

"Miss Gill?" she could see her little twelve-year-old face.

"Yes, that's right," she confirmed.

Brennan asked her to come down so they could ask her some questions. She said she'd be there as soon as she could get out of work. After she'd hung up, Brennan suddenly wished she'd told her who she was. She'd been sent to her second home as well, when they'd left the first. She knew her most of all.

An instant more and she was striding toward the interrogation room. She could at least watch from the other side of the mirror. If she wanted to, she'd go in.

As she neared the room, she heard voices. It didn't sound like agents, it was more... joyful, excited. She followed the sound, slowly approaching. Soon she could hear clearer. Then she saw them, the two women talking actively... Leigh and Cristina, she recognized them, and evidently they'd figured out who each of them was. The conversation stopped as Leigh spotted her standing there.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are we being too loud?" she asked as Cristina turned to see. She paused, looking at Brennan. Even as she spoke, she knew Cristina was remembering her.

"It's not a problem. If you could maybe..."

"Temperance?" Cristina asked. Leigh paused as she heard the name, looking back to Brennan. She breathed out, looking to the two of them. After a moment, she nodded. Cristina walked up to hug her, and Brennan let her. "It's good to see you."

"This is... What's going on?" Leigh stepped up. "Why are we all here? Did they tell you?"

"No, I... I work with them. I can't really go into detail about it." She recalled what she'd heard from Angela and looked to Cristina. "I heard about Brianna. I'm sorry." Cristina nodded.

"Were they... you... looking for her as well?"

"Yes, her and some others," Brennan revealed.

"Others?" Brennan nodded.

"Agent Booth's talking to Harley right now." She knew from their faces that they both recalled him. The three sat in chairs side by side. Each remained quiet, as the time they had spent together... the time they had spent apart... came toward reality. Silence was broken with a new arrival.

The hope, that same youthful hold on life and possibility still glimmered in his eyes whether at seven or twenty-three years old... and that was how they knew him.

"Hi, I'm looking for..." he started, unaware.

"Perry," Brennan spoke up as she rose with the others.

x

After Booth had satisfied the rules he'd had set before him, he told Harley Severino that he'd need to stick around a while longer. For now, that was what had to be done... Until he'd spoken with the listed, he couldn't be sure of what was out there for them, if he'd be sending them in harm's way.

Another thing that stayed on his mind was Brennan, and what her place would be in all this. He had to follow procedure. If he was going to interrogate the others on the list as possible suspects, he'd have to hold her to that same standard. At the same time, he wanted to protect her. What people within the bureau and beyond would bring to conclusion where she was concerned could put so much in jeopardy. He kept to the hope that it wouldn't come to that.

He went to retrieve his next list member. As he was directed to where they seemed to have gathered, he saw her... Brennan, sitting among her former foster siblings. Seeing her there, he could see it... There was this whole side of her life, this mystery... That was one of the things that had made her so dear to him. For a while, he wouldn't move, unwilling to disturb her.

His phone rang, and he swiped back so they wouldn't see him. He answered the phone as he went on backing away. "Booth," he spoke.

"Hey, it's me," Hodgins spoke quickly.

"Hodgins, can I call you back?" he turned a corner.

"Fine, but better make it quick. You want this info." Booth paused.

"The head?" As he said it, he sensed someone behind him, and there was Brennan. She quizzed with her eyes, and he held up a finger to ask her to hold.

"In a manner of speaking," Hodgins replied.

"Meaning what exactly?" Booth asked.

"Divers have started pulling bone fragments that would suggest..." Booth looked to Brennan, signaling a head before closing his fingers and then extending them as though an explosion to indicate the state of it.

"So when it's done, they'll send everything to the lab?"

"Yeah," Hodgins confirmed.

"Thanks, Hodgins," he hung up. "We have the head. It's in pieces, but that's nothing you can't handle."

"I'll go back to the lab," she nodded.

"So you came out of hiding?" he nodded toward the area where Cristina, Leigh, and Perry sat.

"Sara called, she's on her way. You'll let me know how everything's going?"

"Of course," he nodded. "Hey..." he took a step forward. "You know later I'll have to..."

"Interrogate me. I know. It's okay, you have to."

"Yeah..." he nodded. "They also might send in another agent, if they see that as... conflicting."

"I know," she nodded, hesitated.

"I'll keep them safe if they're innocent." She nodded once more. "Go on." She held on to his shoulder for a moment, then left.

x

The skull fragments hadn't arrived yet when Brennan set foot in the lab. She went up and she sat and waited. It was sitting there that she started to understand the dread inside her.

Having their victim a Jane Doe had a safety in it. Once the skull was assembled and Angela gave her a face, then she'd know. She know if this person was someone she once knew. Since they'd found her mother, it was something she just never wanted to experience again.

Still deep inside she knew it was a very strong possibility. That possibility had come to life the moment they'd discovered that list. And then there was this other facet - how it could have been one of them... She'd only known most of them for a few months years ago, but they were months she just couldn't forget. For that, she couldn't forget them, couldn't put them aside.

In some part of her, she could only see them as the kids they were. Seven-year-old Perry who lived perpetually happy... Ten-year-old Harley who just missed his sister... Twelve-year-old Sara Lynn who could always roll with the punches... Thirteen-year-old Leigh who'd play tough but just missed home... Sixteen-year-old twins Brianna and Cristina who couldn't wait to join 'the real world'... Seventeen-year-old Brighton who still cried at night...

And fifteen-year-old Temperance... She remembered her, too. She remembered confusion, frustration... isolation and loneliness. Everything had disappeared on her, and there was not a thing she could do about it. She didn't like being powerless. The problem then was of course that, being powerless, she had nothing to help her find a way out. That was not something she wanted to define her. She couldn't have this be her life.

It had defined her somehow... Not in that fearful way, but something better. Still, all of that which was being thrown on her at once...

"Dr. Brennan?" She snapped out of thought as she saw Zack standing across from her.

"Yes?" she blinked.

"The skull is here," he presented her with the box. She took it, placing it on the table. She would do this. No matter the outcome, she'd deal with it somehow.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 3: To Give Face

_A/N: At this time I'm still on chapter 7 :)_

**CHAPTER 3 - To Give Face**

_SIXTEEN YEARS AGO_

It was her mother's birthday. When she woke up that morning, that somehow negated her memory of what had happened and where she was. But then she'd turned over in her bed, she'd opened her eyes... reality cut right through her. She shrank against the mattress, begging with it to give her the denial and the dream back.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice forced her out again. She didn't want to open her eyes. If she kept them closed, she could keep the images safe and alive.

"I don't know..." she mumbled.

"Are you sick?"

"It's not that," she promised.

"Do you need to be alone?"

"Never..." her voice choked as tears forced her eyes open.

"You miss your family," her head lowered from the top bunk. "It gets easier. Not better, just..."

"Easier," she repeated, wiping at the tears.

"Besides, if there's one thing you don't have to worry about in this house... it's being alone," she held her hand out to her. Temperance reached out with a smile.

x

_TODAY_

Soon, it felt, she had the skull reassembled. It sat before her, almost begging for a face. She picked it up, carrying it over for Angela to do her thing.

Angela would find Jane Doe a face, and when she did, then it would change everything. There was no doubt someone from her past - hers and the other seven's... Unlike with her mother's case, this one would no doubt be within her own memory's scope. It was scarier than she could say.

As she walked into Angela's office, she felt her grip tighten on the edges of the tray, giving the skull a shake. That made Angela stand to attention. As she spotted Brennan, she stood.

"The famous hide-a-skull... Time to give you a name more personal than 'Jane Doe'," she took the tray. Brennan stood there for a moment.

"You'll call as soon as you're done?"

"The moment I get on finishing touches," Angela promised, then, "Hey, are you..."

"I have to go. Booth's expecting me," she turned and headed out before Angela finished. The artist sighed, looking back to the fractured skull sitting before her.

x

"We're running down all of your alibis. Now that it's done, I'll be able to go into further detail," Booth stood at the head of the table. Sitting around it were Cristina, Leigh, Sara Lynn, Harley, and Perry. They were still waiting on Brighton Young, but they had to get things moving.

"Good," Leigh nodded, much like the others.

"A body was found earlier today. A female, early thirties. We've yet to identify her. However, we've discovered a few things. One that stands out is also the reason why you're all here." Pressing a button, an enlarged photograph of the list was displayed on a large screen on the wall. Booth watched as they all read, all found themselves, found the connection with the initials.

"Are we in danger?" Sara Lynn asked.

"That's yet to be established, but if that's the case, we'll do everything in our power to keep you safe."

"How good's your word?" Harley challenged.

"The request was made by one of your own. And I assure you, my word is solid. You won't be harmed," Booth looked to him. He sat back.

"What about our families?" Cristina asked.

"We can bring them in. You were the one who needed to reach a babysitter," Booth recalled.

"My nephew," she confirmed, eyes clouded with memories of her sister.

"We'll take care of it. In the mean time... have any of you received any visits or phone calls from people from your pasts, or people who wouldn't identify themselves?"

One at a time, they paused to think. In most cases, they shook their heads, though Booth could tell that they weren't sure if they'd thought of everything. But Leigh's pause told a different story. She caught Booth having noticed and she sat up.

"This may not be..." He signaled for her to go on. "I answer the phone at a pizza place. I take the orders. Last few weeks, we've had some "fake orders". Some woman calls, places an order, but when the delivery guy shows up, the people say they didn't order."

"What's the address?" Booth asked.

"It's never the same," Leigh shook her head. "How can this be related?"

"I guess we'll find out."

x

"Angela?" Brennan called her to attention as she walked in. Brennan had arrived in Angela's office to find she wasn't there. So she sat to wait.

As she waited, she kept looking sideways... The Angelator... Within moments, she'd be shown the face belonging to their Jane Doe. Immediately, she flashed back to the moment she saw her mother's face floating, disembodied bits of light, within that space. Ever since then, she'd had this sort of recurring fear she'd once again come face to face with a familiar image.

When Angela came in, she felt a jolt... moment of truth. "You have the face?" Angela paused as she saw her, the look on her face a mixture of confusion and frustration.

"Not quite. I have A face. It's not our Jane Doe..." Brennan stood. "I thought it was, but then we just got a call, that's why I..."

"How's that possible?"

"I don't know, but the general disbelief over coincidence just took one giant step back."

"The call?"

"Search party found the real skull, trapped in some bushes. It's on its way in now."

"Okay..." Brennan sighed, pacing a couple of steps.

"Brennan... Are you..." Angela started, then paused as she looked down.

"It's okay, you can ask," Brennan managed a small smile. Angela returned it with a nod.

"I just can't imagine... How are you doing with all this?"

"I'm fine and I'm not fine... I just want to know who she is so we can figure out what happened, and... I want to know that she wasn't alone going through what was happening to her."

"We'll do that," Angela promised. A moment later, Brennan's phone rang. Expecting news from Booth, she hurried to answer.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Brennan..." It wasn't Booth.

"Dr. Goodman," she responded.

"I need to speak with you, in person," he went on. Part of her understood in an instant what he wanted to tell her.

"I'll be there in two minutes," she nodded before hanging up. She looked back to Angela as her mind raced. "Walk with me?" Angela nodded and they started out down the halls.

"What's going on?" Angela asked.

"I'm being taken off the case."

"Booth said that'd happen," she guessed. "What are you going to do?"

"What else can I do?"

"I'm sorry..."

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything," Angela assured her. Brennan stopped her walking. She looked around.

"Look out for them?" she turned to her friend. The 'them' was understood. Them... Sara Lynn, Cristina, Leigh, Harley, Perry, and Brighton.

"I will," Angela promised.

"Thank you," Brennan touched her arm before heading toward Goodman's office.

When she walked in, he saw her face and he knew that she knew. He stood from behind his desk. "I know you want to see this case solved."

"I do," she confirmed.

"So we have an understanding then." There she didn't reply. "Dr. Brennan..."

"No, I'll go," she got her senses back. "I just don't want to feel like I'm letting her down... I may not know who she is yet, but..."

"That's perfectly normal," he spoke up.

"Will you let me know when you have her name?" She saw him hesitate. "You'd tell the others..." Hesitation, still. "Have me interrogated first, I don't care."

"Maybe you should," his tone peaked for an instant. Both were silent for a moment. "I called Agent Booth after I got the request, he's on his way. I'll speak with him... We'll work something out."

"Thank you," Brennan stepped out to wait for Booth. She didn't have to wait long, nor did she expect to. She saw him, and her eyes didn't lose him a moment as he walked up the rest of the way to ocme stand before her. "Goodman wants to talk to you," she pointed to the door quietly.

"Yeah, okay," he nodded once, though it was clear he had larger and more important concern. "I'm not a fan of procedure..."

"Yes, you are," she corrected.

"In most cases," he confirmed, "Not here. If there was any other way, you know I..."

"Yes. You're still there. That's good enough for me." He gave a comforting smile.

"Hey, look on the bright side. You get to relax, you get... you get to work on the new book," he pointed at her. The look on her face amused him to no end. "This is what happens when you live with a skilled investigator such as myself." That got a muffled laugh out of her, which was what he sought.

"Don't knock procedure too hard," she left as her parting request.

"I'll see about that," he watched her go before stepping into Goodman's office.

x

"Who's going to be in charge?" Zack asked Hodgins as they worked through the items recovered from the park. Hodgins shook his head.

"I don't know. Maybe Goodman." Zack pondered this. "Hey, take a look at this," Hodgins brought an item to inspect through magnification. Zack joined him.

"Looks like a baggage tag, part of one..."

"The paper's gone, but... looks like some of the ink rubbed off on the plastic."

"We might be able to get a name, an address..."

"I'd call that catching a break," Hodgins nodded, satisfied. "Dr. Brennan will be glad, she..." It came back then that she wouldn't be there. "I'll get this to Angela," he took the tag and headed off.

Zack now stood alone. After a second, he hurried back to work. That was the trick - keep busy so his mind wasn't allowed to force a flashback on him.

x

Hodgins arrived with the tag to find Angela's eyes in a deadlock with her computer screen. He hesitated to pull her from it, knowing that never ended well for 'the disruptor'. As it turned out, she hadn't locked out all of her surroundings in favor of the bright screen.

"Got something for me?"

"Beside admiration?" She smiled and looked up at him. "Something that might help us identify our Jane Doe."

"Headless or bodiless?"

"Headless," he nodded. Angela and came to look.

"Decisions, decisions... Work on the head that's about to arrive, work on this..."

"I might be able to work on this tag while you take care of the head if you walk me through it."

"Aw," she smirked. "Want to be my assistant, Jacky?" she teased. "Right this way," she pulled him along.

Soon, the head was in Angela's lab, and she got to work. Hodgins was nearby, working in coordination with Angela. There wasn't much to work with. For a time they worried all they would get would be information they were already aware of, such as the city.

"Got a lead on one of our Jane Does." Both looked up at the sound of Booth's voice.

"Headless or bodiless?" Hodgins and Angela spoke as one.

"What..." Booth started, confused, but shrugged it off and held out a printed sheet - a missing person poster. "The skull Brennan re-assembled and Angela sketched... We got a hit."

"That looks like her," Angela nodded as she observed the photo. "Grace Wills, 23..." she read out.

"The parents are coming in for confirmation. How are you doing with the second face?" Booth asked Angela.

"I'm almost done." Booth nodded, then turned to Hodgins.

"All I can tell you is she lived on a 'Street' in DC. But I'm working on it."

"Okay," Booth nodded. He remained standing there, and they knew... he wasn't going to leave until he had a face. Angela went on working, and a few minutes later, she was satisfied that it was ready. She stood and went to hand it to Booth.

"Meet our no longer headless Jane Doe."

"Can you make me a copy?" Angela didn't question it, taking the sketch to do as asked.

"Are you sure about this?" Hodgins asked Booth.

"We want an ID. What do you think will make it happen faster?" Hodgins nodded quietly. Angela soon returned with Booth's copy. "Keep working at it."

"Sure," Angela replied as Booth left.

x

Brennan sat on the couch, looking over her notes for her new book. It might as well have been blank though - her head just wasn't in it.

Currently, it was working to list up the other girls from the home who fit the general traits they knew of their Jane Doe. Mia? Tilly? Claire? She tried to bring their memory into a clearer focus, to somehow find a way to narrow the field...

She'd insisted she would sit this one out, make herself available only in that capacity she was expected to meet...

But all the while, there was young Temperance just screaming at her to do... something, to not let this slip out of her hands.

All her usual instincts seemed to stall in this case though... And maybe it was the screaming spector of young Temperance who was sticking obstacles in her path.

She tried to place herself in that world, to think about her time there and how she'd changed through it. But just as the person she once was mattered to the situation, she had to account for her current self too. If this were any other case, she'd dig for answers no matter what. Why was it different now?

"No creative breakthroughs, I see," a voice drew her out of thought. She looked over her shoulder to find Booth leaning against the back of the couch, looking at her. "How's it going?"

"Honestly?"

"Whatever works for you."

"I'll let you know once I figure it out."

"That bad?"

"The time I spent in that house, I... It's the one time where I felt... weak. So much had happened at once, I couldn't stop and pick myself up. Things would get better from then on, but that didn't erase the past... It emphasized it..." Brennan lowered her head for a moment, running her hand through her hair. She had to put it aside.

"The broken skull Jane Doe may have been identified, I'm meeting with the parents after I leave here."

"And... the first one?" she turned to him. He pulled out the folded copy of Angela's sketch from his pocket.

"Hodgins is working on a piece of a tag found at the scene that could give us the address. And Angela... She gave me this," he unfolded the sheet.

One look, and her breath caught in her throat.

_"It gets easier. Not better, just..."_

_"Easier."_

_"Do you need to be alone?"_

Deep down she'd always known, she'd felt it.

"Bones... Who is she?"

"Tilly..."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 4: To Seek the Past

**CHAPTER 4 - To Seek the Past**

"Her name was Matilda McCrea... we called her Tilly. She'd been at the house three months when I got there. She was in the system since she was five. Her father killed her mother before going on the run. She'd been in home after home, but it didn't seem to get to her." Brennan sighed, looking back to the sketch.

"After I meet the other girl's parents, I'll get back to the lab, see where we're at... We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise. Until then..."

"Sit, wait. Got it." Booth lowered his head.

"Once we get this going, things are going to start moving. You and the others, they'll start looking closer. I don't know if they'll decide that... our relationship, my presence jeopardizes the investigation. If it goes far enough, our whole team..."

"You think..."

"I don't know... I'm talking worst case scenario, I... I worry about you..." She smiled for a moment. "I have to go..." He stood back, then paused. "Whatever you do, just be careful."

x

"This... this is her, that's our Gracie..." Mr. Wills spoke, his eyes still on the image on the table. His fingers touched the edge of the sheet, his face giving away his emotional state's fragility. By his side, his wife looked tranced, lost. "She was... our first child, our only daughter... She was such a special girl..."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Booth spoke solemnly. At this point, Mrs. Wills finally came to life.

"What happened to her?" she spoke tightly.

"We're unable to say at this time..."

"We're her parents, if anyone's permitted to know..." the mother worked up.

"Mrs. Wills, I didn't mean to imply we wouldn't tell you. The reason I can't tell you how your daughter died is because we don't know, we don't... We still don't have her all back." The two parents looked up at once.

"Oh, Gracie..." the mother cried in a whisper as her husband grasped her hand.

"When did you last see your daughter?" Booth asked after a moment. Mr. Wills looked to his wife.

"Two years ago, after she quit school. After a while, she started calling again. She'd call... every Tuesday, 6:30. No matter what she was doing, she made the time." Booth understood.

"And then the calls stopped coming."

"Eight months ago. That's when we reported her missing. We tried to find her, but... She didn't want to be found, so she made sure. We didn't know where she lived, and her number was unlisted. She'd call, but we couldn't call back. We didn't push because we were afraid she'd run further and we'd never hear from her again."

"Did she sound at all distressed in her last calls?"

"No, not at all," Mrs. Wills spoke up. "Just the opposite, she sounded happy. We thought it meant she'd come back to us soon..."

"Did she give you any clue as to where she was? It may not have sounded like much. If she mentioned a restaurant, or a store, something near her..."

"She had a job. She didn't say what it was, but she'd talk about... What was that girl's name? Her friend," Mrs. Wills turned to her husband. He nodded, recalling.

"Billie... I remember, I thought it was a boyfriend, but she said it was short for Wilhelmina..."

Booth kept a straight face, but inside he suddenly wondered... had he dismissed the diner too soon? The diner... and 'Tommy Tank'?

x

"Well you can now officially know the ID is positive on Matilda McCrea," Angela told Booth over the phone.

"Good, because we may have caught a break. Grace Wills was friends with the girl from the diner, the one Thomas Walden has a thing for."

"They found more of her in the water, it's on the way."

"Okay," Booth nodded as he drove on to the diner's street. "Did you call..."

"I wanted to, but... I don't want to get her hopes up."

x

Brennan fought against the desire to go longer than she'd care to admit. Finally, she had to do... something. She may not have had access to some things at the moment, but what she had in mind was more... independent.

It took a moment, but soon she recalled where it was. The further she drove, the closer she felt to those months she spent in this area. When she came to a stop, she looked up to the house and it was like no day had passed.

Just as she was coming out of her car, she saw a man come out of the house, carrying a trash bag he took to a large plastic bin. He'd aged, but she recognized him. She approached slowly.

"Richard Brody?" He turned at the call.

"Yes?" As he looked at her, it was clear she wasn't unfamiliar to him.

"Temperance Brennan," she indicated herself. Now he had confirmation he did know her.

"Look at you..." he came up to her. "You're looking well," he remarked with a kind smile. She returned it briefly. "What can I do for you?" She froze up at the question. "Are you alright?" She looked up at him.

"Do you remember a girl, she was here the same time I was, Matilda McCrea? Everyone called her..."

"Tilly," he nodded. "Yes, of course, but I haven't seen her in years. Why?"

"She... She died." His face seemed to blanch all at once. His hand almost shot up to his head.

"When..."

"About a week ago. She was found this morning. We don't know what caused it exactly."

"We?" Richard blinked.

"I work with the FBI. Although... I was actually taken off the case for conflict of interest."

"Well... Please, come inside..." Brennan followed him. As they walked through the door, she couldn't believe how much this place hadn't changed.

"You still house children," she remarked, taking in her surroundings.

"We do," he nodded. "Not as many as we used to, but we do what we can."

"How's Jane?"

"She's good. She's out at the grocery store, but she should be back soon." They went to sit in the kitchen.

"How long has it been... since you've seen Tilly?" He paused as he thought.

"We were able to see her through to her eighteenth birthday. She stayed in touch for quite a while, but then she moved to Houston... six years ago. Eventually, we stopped hearing from her. Was she living back here in town?"

"I don't know. It's possible she may have been visiting."

"I can't believe this is happening. She was... a really nice girl." Brennan nodded.

"Yes, she was... I should go." He nodded, standing with her. "It's possible the FBI might come by."

"I won't tell them you were here," he told her, seemingly understanding what she was getting at.

"Thanks," she smiled.

x

"Okay, so obviously things are going to be different with this case. Not that it changes anything... much. The point is..." Booth spoke as he addressed the gathered Angela, Hodgins, and Zack.

"You need your squint dose," Angela smirked. Booth looked back at her. She buried the smirk.

"I'll do it," Hodgins raised his hand.

"Zack," Booth looked to him.

"Wh..." Hodgins started, but Booth stopped him. "Zack it is."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Zack spoke up.

"It's just until Brennan comes back," Booth assured him. "I'll be right back. You guys keep at it," he headed for the exit. Angela hurried to catch up to him.

"Booth..." He stopped, turned. "Thanks, for Zack..." He nodded.

"Hey, I'll do what I can..." he shrugged as he moved toward the exit.

x

When Brennan arrived back home, there was a woman standing outside her door. She halted as she spotted her. "Dr. Brennan?" she took a few steps toward her.

"Who's asking?" She showed a badge.

"Agent Eckers, FBI. You weren't home..."

"I went shopping," she lied.

"No bags."

"Nothing good. Can I help you?"

"I hope so. You know why I'm here."

"You want to interrogate me. You could have called. Am I a flight risk to you?"

"I don't know what you are. They sent me because we've never met." Brennan nodded. "And what I do know... You're quite the tempered one."

"Am I supposed to be offended?" Agent Eckers chuckled.

"Let's go."

Agent Eckers drove them to the FBI offices. As they walked down the halls, she knew she wouldn't find Booth, but still her eyes searched for him. And as she sat in the interrogation room, she felt different. She'd sat in this room countless times, but in that instant it was a new land for her. But as always, she faced it with the strength that made her who she was. Agent Eckers sat across from her, opening a file.

"You were in foster care with the victim, Matilda McCrea, for seven months?"

"That's right."

"Did you ever see her after that?"

"Once. It was eight years after I was taken out of that house and placed again. We ran into each other on the street. We talked, then we went on our way. That's the last time I saw her."

"Are you sure?"

"Last I checked, my memory worked fine." Agent Eckers reached for a sheet, sliding it over to Brennan.

"We got Miss McCrea's cell phone records. It shows two calls to your home. Both on the same night, one hour apart. The first lasted ten seconds. The second was three minutes." Brennan frowned, looking at the sheet, the date... "How's your memory now?"

"I didn't know it was her. The first call, no one spoke, so I hung up."

"And the second call?"

"She said she was a critic, wanted to ask about my books..." It was two weeks ago, but the conversation had been odd enough that she recalled it very well. "She hesitated at first. Then she asked a couple of questions and she had to go."

"What does that tell you?"

"I'm not sure. Whatever she meant to say, maybe she couldn't get it out..." She looked back to the list for a moment. Instantly, she spotted some other familiar numbers, each of them short calls. The longest call besides hers was to Brighton Young. It was the last and dated three days before Tilly would have been killed.

"Did you tell anyone about that call?" Agent Eckers asked as she pulled the sheet away. Brennan looked up.

"No," she spoke briefly. It was a lie, and she'd perhaps end up regretting it later, but she felt it was necessary at this time. Booth had been sitting with her at the time. If this made things complicated for her a little while longer, then so be it. At least Booth could keep investigating.

"That's a shame."

"Yes. Are we done?"

"Are we in a hurry?" Brennan leaned forward.

"I haven't had any informed contact with Tilly in years. Also, in case you didn't look into it, the day she was killed, I was at a charity fundraiser... out of town." Eckers smirked.

"You can go." Brennan stood. "For now. Will you be doing more shopping today? In case I need to reach you." Brennan returned her smirk.

"If you're that concerned, call my cell," she told her before leaving.

x

"Billie Webb?" Booth sat at the diner's counter for the second time that day. He had his badge presented as she looked up from the cash register. She blinked. Zack stood silently behind Booth.

"Is it Grace? Did you find something?" she asked, sounding honestly worried. Booth could tell she both wanted to know and didn't want to know. Sadly for her, Booth had the news that landed squarely in the 'don't want to know' category.

"Remains were found this morning. We've made a positive ID. I'm sorry." Billie's hand went to her mouth as she began to cry. "You two were close?" Billie grabbed a napkin to wipe her tears, though they kept coming.

"She was more than that. We were like sisters. She'd say... blood was nothing when it came to a real family."

"You two were roommates?" Booth asked. Billie nodded. "For how long?"

"About two years. That's when we met."

"Would you mind if I took a look at her things?"

"After a couple of months went by, I had to get a new roommate. But I packed up her things, put the boxes in a corner in my room. It made a clutter, didn't leave much space, but I didn't mind... I kept hoping she'd come back..." her words lost consistency as the tears reclaimed her. Booth handed her more napkins. "Thanks."

"Could I see those boxes?" She nodded.

"After you're done... They should go to her parents. She hated what her leaving was doing to them."

x

It did turn out Brennan had more 'shopping' in her. After leaving the FBI building, she drove to Brighton's address from the list. When she got there, she saw there was a 'FOR RENT' sign in the window. It said to inquire at the house next door. She tried Brighton's - no answer. So she went to ring next door - the landlord. She claimed she wished to visit the apartment. He asked her to wait a moment, then he took her over to the apartment.

"The tenant travels often for work, but said to allow visits anyhow. The place should be vacated in a couple of weeks. I'll let you take a look around."

Brennan started walking about. She hadn't known Brighton too well, but that tended to be because he'd stick to himself. He didn't talk much, to anyone. The one thing she knew of his past was that his parents died when he was a baby, so he was sent to live with his sole relative, his grandmother. And when she died, nine-year-old Brighton landed in foster care. He was seventeen when she knew him, didn't seem to care where he'd end up in adulthood.

In every respect, his apartment suited him. It was plain, didn't carry any emotion. His living room consisted of two couches, a sparsely filled bookcase, a lamp, and a table in front of the two couches. the tiled floor was bright and relatively clean. There were no pictures, no personal touches... bare necessities. That was Brighton.

She didn't touch anything - didn't have gloves with her - but still there was something that didn't feel right about this place. She approached the table, crouching before it. It was thin, barely visible, but there was dust that seemed to demark a television set. She turned to the wall the couches and table were facing - more thin dust showed the table used to be there.

She went to the bookcase, observed the way the books were laid out. It struck her as odd before, and now she saw why. Spaces had been vacated as some books were removed. The others had followed gravity and tumbled down in a cascade effect. Had Brighton taken them? Had he needed them for work... or for sentimental value because he didn't intend to return?

"How are we doing?" The voice made her jump, and she bumped into the bookcase, making it shift. She looked up to the landlord.

"Just thinking."

"I'll just go grab a form, in case it interests you. I'll be a minute."

"Alright," she nodded as he left.

She turned back to the case, observing the angle it now rested at. She needed to put it back. She took off her jacket, using it to cover her hands while being careful not to tear it and leave fibers.

It was as she was bracing herself to move it that she saw something on the floor space previously covered by the bookcase.

It was dried blood.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 5: To Get it Right

**CHAPTER 5 - To Get it Right**

"Where are you? I heard they brought you in for interrogation," Booth spoke over his phone as he was getting back into his car. Zack was already in his seat.

"I'm not home, let's leave it at that. About Brighton Young..." she started.

"Not much to tell. He hasn't called back yet."

"I don't think he will."

"What happened?"

"Either he's run off or he's dead somewhere."

"Woah, back it up. Where'd you get that?"

"Just do yourself a favor. Find a reason to go search his place, full equipment."

"Okay," he frowned, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just go."

"You got it," he sped off.

As Billie Webb had helped him somehow squeeze all the boxes of Grace's belongings into his car, he'd brought up Thomas Walden ever so subtly. From what he was told, it didn't seem like there was anything to suggest his involvement in the murder of Grace Wills. Still, that leads had led him to this diner, these people, over two murders where the victims were found so near each other... There were answers there. He just hadn't found them - yet.

He grabbed his phone again, dialing the lab. "Hodgins," answered.

"It's Booth. I need the address for Brighton Young."

"Still a no show?"

"Yeah. Figured I'd go and say hi."

"How's your apprentice?" Booth looked over.

"Quiet." As Hodgins gave him the address, Booth scribbled it down. "Thanks," he hung up. Once again, the car was quiet. Zack still remained silent. He'd had to keep the last of Grace's boxes in his lap. He held on to it but barely seemed aware of its presence.

Part of him wasn't sure what was preventing Zack from fully moving on still after five months. And then there was another part who knew it very well.

"So, Zack..."

"I know why I'm here." Booth wasn't even surprised at that. "It's alright. It's better than therapy."

"Ain't that the truth." Booth looked over at him. "Nightmares?" Zack nodded deeply and slowly. "Yeah. I'd like to tell you that you'll get over it completely, but that wouldn't help you. Whatever's holding you back, you have to remember it won't pass until you learn to live with it, push it back. You went through something big. It's not supposed to go away like it didn't happen."

Zack didn't reply, but Booth could tell that he was considering what he'd just been told.

When they arrived at the address, Booth and Zack found a man standing at the open door, confused and holding some papers in his hand. "Sir?" Booth spoke. The man turned to him.

"Uh..." he blinked, then shook his head an instant before looking back to Booth. "Yes?"

"Special Agent Booth, FBI," he stated, then nodded back. "This is Zack Addy with the Jeffersonian. You are..."

"Cole Blaine."

"Do you live here?" Booth asked.

"I'm the landlord."

"We're looking for Brighton Young. He's your tenant?"

"That's right," Blaine nodded. "He's not here, he's on a business trip."

"Well we really need to get a hold of him. Is there any way to find where he is?"

"I, uh... I don't know."

"His place is for rent," Zack pointed out.

"Yes, he said something about moving to get closer to his family." Booth and Zack shared a look.

"Can I use the bathroom?" Zack asked Blaine.

"S-sure. It's down the hall," he indicated the open door. Zack passed by, leaving the other two standing by.

"Does Mr. Young go on these trips a lot?"

"Once or twice every few months, I'd say."

"Does he like camping?" Before he could answer...

"Agent Booth?" Zack called from within. He went in, followed by Blaine. Zack stood in the hall, facing the living room. Seeing Booth, he pointed. They all looked and saw - dried blood under the bookcase.

Twenty minutes later, the apartment had been taken over. They soon saw that the blood under the bookcase was only the unreachable end of a trail, the rest of which had been cleaned - if only for the benefits of the naked eye. They could now say to near certainty that someone had died there. The question remained whether that someone was Brighton Young.

As Booth stood outside, a short distance from all the action, Zack approached him. "Did you really have to go?" Zack shook his head. "Why'd you do it?" he smirked.

"You're helping Dr. Brennan, aren't you?" Booth didn't reply, but his look did all the talking needed. "Is there a way to get them to let her come back on? She knows things that could help us here."

"That she does. Hey, Zack... want to see something fun?"

x

"Agent Dana Eckers?" Booth walked into the office, Zack walking right behind him. She looked up and her face relaxed, knowing of...

"Special Agent Seeley Booth. Thought we might be meeting at some point. Please, sit."

"No, that's alright. I'm not staying here. Neither are you - come on," he started back for the hall. Eckers didn't move, somewhat startled. "Don't worry, it's not far." Now more annoyed than anything, Agent Eckers stood, walking into the hall with Booth and Zack. "Alright," Booth stood behind her, at her shoulder. "See the office at the end of the hall? You know the one. By the time we reach the door you'll be able to go in there and state that Dr. Temperance Brennan may be allowed back on the McCrea and Wills cases, that her involvement will in fact be an asset. I know you can be good and convincing. I trust you'll do fine. Ready?"

x

"Was that fun or what?"

"Impressive, actually," Zack nodded.

"It's practical, but not to be abused. Come on let's gather up our lady of the bones."

Once back in the car, Booth picked up his phone and dialed up Brennan's cell. She answered after two rings. "So I just got a phone call..." she just started, no greeting needed.

"Now that's great. We do all the work and they're the ones to give out the good news."

"Thank you," she replied, making him smile. "What did you find at Brighton's house?"

"Mostly a cleaned up blood pool. Samples from under the bookcase should help most to find out who it came from. And you're welcome. Where are you now?"

"I stopped for lunch."

"Better late than starving," Booth nodded. "See you back at the lab."

x

Sitting to her lunch, Brennan's mind just kept on bombarding her with memories, times that seemed long forgotten. It wasn't particularly useful to them here, but nonetheless she felt good as it came.

The period itself may not have been one she cherished at the time, but removed from it years later, she could see parts of it as having been beneficial to her.

And there were these rare moments here and there where she could almost forget the bad things that had happened.

She was relieved to be 'back on the case'. She'd tried to hold herself away, but before long it had become clear that she couldn't sit back on this one. She had to help.

From what she knew, of the seven of them only three had airtight alibis - herself, Cristina, and Perry. Leigh, Sara Lynn, and Harley's alibis weren't so easy to confirm. And then there was Brighton. If her suspicions were true and he was dead, he would be the third from the home, with Tilly and Brianna.

She knew she had to be cautious in how she handled this case. True, once upon a time, she'd known these people; she'd lived with these people... But that was sixteen years ago. She wasn't the same person now that she was back then - that was the same with the others. As hard as it may have seemed, she had to consider that this time may have affected them in ways she couldn't predict.

As she finished her lunch, she set off toward the lab. When she arrived, she found everyone hard at work. As she approached, they paused.

"Welcome back," Hodgins nodded. Brennan did the same in response. "We're all here so we can get you all caught up."

"Good," Brennan looked to the lot of them.

"It's going to take a few hours before we know for sure whether it's Brighton Young's blood that was found in his apartment... probably more if we have nothing to compare it to," Booth pointed out.

"I've been looking to see if he's shown up in any morgues," Angela followed. "No Brighton Young. So if he is dead then he's a John Doe."

"Do you have a recent photo?" Brennan asked. Angela handed it to her.

"Pulled from the DMV." Brennan observed the image a moment. His hair was shorter now. Back when she'd known him, his head was covered in curls. After a moment, Booth carefully took it from her.

"I'll get it circulated."

"Zack, have you found cause of death on either Tilly or Grace?" Brennan asked.

"On... Tilly, yes. Her neck was broken. Other injuries added, it appears she fell. Pushed, or..."

"She may not have been able to prevent it, fight back, if she was ill."

"Grace Wills is another story. Her bones were pulled from the lake," Zack started as they moved to the second table. "There were many fractures, a few healed over prior to her death."

"She was abused..." Brennan suggested.

"None of them appear to be older than a year, so they would have come after she ran from home. Did she have a boyfriend?" Angela asked. None had a reply. "We've got the boxes of her belongings from her friend. She should be able to help if the boxes can't." Brennan gave a look and Angela nodded. "I'll check it out," she ran off. Brennan turned to the last two.

"I'll get back to Grace Wills for COD," Zack nodded before moving to do that.

"I'm up to my ears with samples from all these scenes. You'll be the first to know what I find."

"Good," she replied as he went off.

Now standing alone, she waited for Booth to return, so they could get moving again. Her main concern for the moment was the well-being of this case, and also that of the five over at the FBI building. Falling to instinct, she reached in her pocket and pulled out the card she'd requested as she'd left her interrogation, 'just in case'. She dialed.

"Dana Eckers."

"Agent Eckers..." she simply used as her greeting. There was a pause - she knew who it was.

"Dr. Brennan, what a surprise."

"Look... I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"Hostile is more like it."

"I'll give you that. You understand why though, don't you?" Another pause.

"Maybe."

"It was a good effort though."

"Thank you," Agent Eckers replied hesitantly.

"Which brings me to what I'm about to ask."

"You're all full of suggestions, aren't you?" Yet again, she paused. She sighed. "What do you need?"

"Tanner, Severino, and Gill. They'll most likely be interrogated again. I'd like you to do it."

x

Before long, Booth and Brennan were in Booth's car, on their way to Tilly's home. "She was never reported missing. What does that mean?"

"Well..." Booth frowned. "Can be there was no one to do it, or it can be there's no reason to believe this is behavior out of the ordinary, or... someone is covering up their tracks. In that case, it'd be someone close enough to her to be calling the shots like that." Brennan remained quiet. "Hoping for option two?" She didn't reply.

"She worked as a receptionist in an office building. She quit when it got worse," she spoke, going over the information that had been gathered.

"Yeah," Booth confirmed. "That'd be our next stop. Then there's the doctor."

They arrived to the house before long. Brennan spotted a pink bicycle resting against the side of the house, and two emotions twisted through her - relief... that she wasn't alone; grief, that they were about to spread. They went to the door, and Booth rang the bell.

"Yes?" a man came to answer.

"Special Agent Booth, FBI," he introduced himself. "And... this is Dr. Brennan from..."

"Brennan... Temperance Brennan?" The man interrupted Booth, surprising them both.

"Yes," Brennan confirmed.

"You're one of them, the... the people from her list." She nodded, looking at Booth. "So, she found you?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"May we come in?" Booth then asked. The man let them in, and they went into the living room. Right away, Brennan saw the pictures on the mantle. Tilly, the man, and a little girl. "You're..."

"Uh, Ian Ryder, I'm Tilly's fiance." Suddenly, it seemed to click for him, their presence, what it could only mean. "Did something... Is she..."

"I'm sorry," Booth nodded once. Ian rubbed at his eyes, his shoulders seeming to lose the strength to keep him seated upright.

"I always feared this would happen, that I-I wouldn't be... with her. Maybe that was how she wanted it."'

"I'm afraid it's more than that." Ian looked up, his posture still crooked. "She was murdered." It took a moment for him to move again as the statement was processed.

"What?" he barely had any voice.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Booth asked. Ian tried to think. He sat back, looking to the pictures on the mantle.

"I-I'm sorry, I just..."

"Take your time," Brennan told him. After a moment...

"She left about... almost two weeks ago. She said... there was something she had to do before it was too late, that there were some people she needed to see." He paused, looking down. "I said I'd go with her, that... she shouldn't be alone. But she said she had to do it on her own, and also that... I should stay here with Carlee." Sensing they would ask, he went on. "That's my... our daughter. She was from my first marriage, but... she was only two when Tilly and I got together... She's ours."

"She's beautiful," Brennan commented. Ian nodded.

"She just turned seven three weeks ago. Tilly said she'd waited at least until after that before she went."

"What exactly was she doing?" Booth asked.

"I don't know, not everything. I'd ask, but she'd say it was something she couldn't share. All I knew was that there were these people that she needed to find. She seemed hard set to speak with them and soon. I didn't know why exactly, but I did know it really mattered to her, so I helped."

"How so?" Booth asked.

"Nothing too complicated, I just helped her search." There was a question in his face, and eventually he did ask it. "Did she meet any of you?" he asked Brennan.

"I'm not sure. I didn't..."

As they left, Brennan was quiet. So many new questions and new options... She didn't know where to start.

"She wasn't alone..." she finally stated.

"No," Booth looked at her. "Neither are you." Brennan looked over at him, beaming into a smile he could always bring out of her.

TBC


	7. Chapter 6: To Regret the Past

_A/N: At this time I'm still at chapter 7 :) At this time, I've started university. Therefore, it's a little harder to keep up with my stories, which is unfortunate, but well... Anyway, I'll do my best to keep updates prompt, but do bear with me :) Thanks :D  
A/N2: Five months after Dichotomy._

**CHAPTER 6 - To Regret the Past**

Angela looked through a small jewelry box. It contained several sets of earrings, neatly kept separated. It seemed Grace Wills favored the color green, like her eyes.

"Excuse me?" Angela looked up to find a girl with long red hair standing at her door.

"You're Billie," she guessed.

"How'd you..." she asked, surprised, as she nodded. Angela indicated a framed picture of Billie and Grace. "That was from a birthday party last year," she smiled. "It was a good night." After a moment reminiscing, she remembered where she was. "Agent Booth told me to come..." She looked at all the boxes laid out around the room, some of them opened. Seeing it all there seemed to strike her hard.

"Want to help?" Angela asked her, sensing her fragility.

"Okay..." she asked, her voice small.

"Have a seat," Angela indicated the floor, where she sat. Billie approached, careful not to knock anything over. As she sat, she seemed unsure of what to do. "I'm Angela, by the way."

"Hi," Billie smiled.

"I'm looking through all these to try and find if there are any things that might help us figure out about Grace, about what might have led to what happened to her. "Billie nodded. "You two were pretty close, weren't you?"

"First time she came into the diner, it was... almost two years ago. She looked like she hadn't eaten for days, like she'd just fall over right there. She had no money left... She asked if I would hire her. I'd only put up the sign that morning, one of the girls had just quit to go to school in LA. She said she could start right away. I told her she could go on for a day and I'd decide, on the condition she ate first." Angela smiled. "She just fit right in, and by the end of that week I had a new best friend, co-worker, and roommate all rolled up into one. It took a while before she told me the whole story about how she ran away. She'd been sneaking off home to get things from her room while her parents were out..."

"Did she say why she ran?" Angela asked. Billie shook her head.

"Grace could be the life of the party, but there were things even I couldn't get her to talk about," she explained, pulling a worn plush lamb from one of the boxes. "Her lucky charm," Billie smiled.

"Billie..." Angela started slowly. The girl looked up. "Did Grace have a boyfriend?" Billie's already pale face dove three tones whiter.

x

"Please, have a seat," asked Miranda Moore, Tilly's former boss. Booth and Brennan sat across the desk. Having just heard of the murder, Ms Moore looked completely on auto-pilot, no doubt needing the sitting herself. "Tilly was... You would never have known that anything was wrong with her, she was absolutely indispensable to all of us, she... When she told me why she had to quit, I was speechless... Murdered..." she trailed off, bewildered.

"Did she ever talk about herself to you?" Booth asked.

"Well... She'd talk about Ian, and... oh, Carlee..." she trembled with sorrow for the child.

"What about from before that?" Brennan jumped in. "Did she mention being in foster care?"

"She... No, she never said..." She seemed to be digging around for something buried in her memory that had suddenly reached up just enough at the question. "Did Tilly have any siblings? Blood related?" Booth and Brennan shook their heads at once. "Three years ago," she suddenly pointed, eyes livened with memory. "August... it was around the time I finalized my div... Doesn't matter," she shook her head with latent bitterness on that topic, getting back on the real topic. "I came in one morning. She was sitting at her computer, crying..."

xx

_"Tilly?" Miranda had paused and walked back as the sound of sobs grabbed on to her ears the moment she walked by. She looked up from her desk, tears shimmering in streaks along her cheeks. She snapped her head away, grappling for tissues. "Tilly, what's wrong? What happened?"_

_"N-Nothing," she lied, desperately wiping to clear away signs of her breakdown. Miranda circled around the desk to come stand by Tilly, briefly seeing the screen before Tilly closed the window. She looked back now, eyes puffy and barely hanging on to remnants of the makeup she'd applied._

_"Talk to me..." Miranda begged calmly. Tilly gently tore her tissue to pieces as she remained quiet. Finally, she spoke._

_"Do you have any brothers and sisters?" The question caught her off guard, but the look in Tilly's eyes guided her to answer._

_"Two older brothers."_

_"Did you ever do anything... And you wanted to apologize, but... you couldn't, but you figured 'Someday I will...'" Miranda didn't know what to say. "I-I need to refill the printer." After a moment, Miranda stood back and Tilly was able to stand. Miranda watched her go._

_"Do you..." she found herself asking. Tilly stopped. "Have brothers and sisters?" She remained turned away._

_"I did."_

xx

"What was on the screen?" Booth asked, not seeing the awareness settling with Brennan. August three years before... she knew what happened then.

"It was a news clipping, a car crash..." Miranda frowned.

"Brianna," Brennan told Booth. He looked at her. "That's when she died." Booth looked back to Miranda.

"Thank you for your time." And they walked off. Once in the elevator, Booth had to ask. Brennan saw him coming, answering before he'd asked.

"I don't know what she was talking about, not off the top of my head. For all we know it can be a common event, or individual ones..."

"Well, finding out could help find her killer. You could get together, talk about it." Brennan didn't reply, but he knew she agreed.

As they returned to the car, Brennan's mind was miles away... years away. What had Tilly done to her? As deep as she looked, she couldn't think of anything that Tilly would be so bent on apologizing to her for before she died. All the memories she came up with where Tilly was concerned were nothing but good ones. She'd always been so kind to young Temperance, to all of them. So why did she want to apologize?

"What if I can't..." she started. Booth waited to see if she'd go on. "What if I can't remember? Maybe I do know what she wanted to apologize for, but I'm just not remembering it now?"

"If it's in you to find, I know you'll get to it."

"Can't let her killer get away, Booth."

"Hey, listen to me. You listening?"

"Yes."

"We'll solve it. Have you known me to give up? Have you known yourself to do it either?"

"No," that seemed to boost her up some.

"It can take as long as it needs to. It won't end until we can close the case. Okay?"

"Okay," she nodded.

"No more doubting yourself."

"I promise," she breathed.

"Good."

"I think the doctor can wait. If we're going to find something, maybe we should go where it started, the home where we all were."

Wordlessly, Booth turned the car to head in a new direction. Brennan looked back out of the window, now considering her earlier visit to see Richard Brody. Booth still didn't know about that. It wouldn't feel right to keep it from him, after all he'd done to help her. And if there was one thing she held as an undeniable truth, it was that if she told Booth something in confidence, that was how it was going to remain.

"There's something you should know..."

x

"You go tell him," Hodgins told Zack as the two of them stood on the platform. They'd spotted Dr. Goodman coming along, and their most recent discovery was coinciding.

"Why me?"

"Do I need a reason?" Zack frowned and walked off to cross Dr. Goodman.

"Excuse me Dr. Goodman, sir..." He stopped, turning to face Zack.

"Yes?"

"We've found out a few things, I... On the remains of Matilda McCrea, only one of the fingers had a pad left, which we could see had its print burnt off?"

"What about it?"

"On closer inspection, it showed that it couldn't have been done recently, very likely it occured more than a year ago."

"So for all we know, her other fingers may have been fine until..."

"That's right. However, the murder theory still holds. Accounting for what we've found though, I'll take a closer look so to rule out suicide."

"Or prove it..." Goodman sighed. Zack nodded. "What else?"

"It'll be a while longer before we get the full results on the blood from Brighton Young's apartment, but we do have a blood type match."

"Alright. Anything new on Grace Wills?"

"I examined what I'd originally believed to be a fracture. It looks as though she was stabbed, and she bled out."

"Have you informed Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth?"

"Not yet. But I'll... get on that now," he turned back and started on his return to where Hodgins still stood.

x

"Billie..." Angela gently prodded. The girl hadn't spoken for minutes, retreating into the boxes of Grace's belongings. "If you're scared, we can protect you." Billie's grasp on the edge of the box tightened.

"I know."

"Whatever you have to tell us, it could help find whoever did this to Grace."

"Yes... Grace had a boyfriend," Billie finally spoke.

"How long?"

"Six... six months, but then they broke up, Grace left him. It was two days before she disappeared." The way Billie looked down, Angela started getting a feeling.

"He was abusive to her, wasn't he?"

"She hid it at first. I didn't know until one night, I came home from work, she was in the bathroom and I could hear her crying. I begged her to let me in, and when she did I saw..."

"Did she report him?"

"Never. I told her she had to get out of it and she had to go to the cops, but she said she couldn't. I wanted to go for her, and she freaked out. Somehow she convinced me. Now I don't know how or why I didn't go anyway."

"What happened then?"

"I tried to stick around more, give him as little of a chance to get at her, and I continued trying to convince her to go. That went on for a month. Then one night, she came home and she said she'd done it. She said she would move back home, to get away from him. Then when she disappeared, I thought maybe she'd just gone, but it didn't track," her face shivered with fear and sadness.

"Didn't you tell anyone about this?" Angela asked. Billie looked at her for the first time in minutes. "Did he threaten you?"

"Not... openly, not that he had to try. I'd see him around the diner, he'd walk by. His eyes, it was just... Every time I thought of it, I'd see it, and..." She paused, deeply shaken. "Then he stopped coming, but by then..."

"Do you think he killed Grace?"

"I don't think it, I know it. I kept hoping somehow she had gotten away, but now... If she's dead, then it's because of him."

"Tell me who he is. They'll bring him in." Angela could see Billie was still scared.

x

"Richard and Jane, they were a good place for us. When I arrived here, I was scared... When I left, I was still scared, just not for the same reason. I was afraid I'd lucked out just this once, and then it'd be a nightmare."

When they got up to the door, Booth rang the bell. After Brennan had told him of her earlier visit, he advised her not to let anyone know, and not to let them know he knew - including Richard and Jane Brody.

"Yes?" a woman answered.

"Jane Brody?" Booth spoke up. She nodded, and then her eyes found Brennan. A moment later, she smiled - she knew her.

Her smile quickly faded as they told her about Tilly - Richard had apparently kept his word. They went to sit. Brennan could see in her the same deep-seated emotions that Richard had displayed upon learning of Tilly's death.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Booth asked.

"She left... six years ago, for work. We'd kept in touch before then, but... I had a feeling once she'd gone we'd lose her... and we did. I last spoke with her a few months after the move." From Ian, they'd learned she'd moved back into town two years later.

"Jane..." Brennan started. "Did Tilly ever say anything to you about... wanting to apologize about something? To me, and some others?"

"I'm not sure I understand," Jane frowned.

"She was trying to find some of the kids from here. She appeared to have some things to say..." Jane shook her head.

"She didn't really confide in me. You should talk to Richard, maybe he knows..."

"Where is he now?" Booth asked.

"He had to go out, after I came back. I don't know..." Booth looked to Brennan.

Once outside, they got quiet. "Booth, I..."

"If he had something to do with this and your visit made him run, I..."

"I know," she spoke shortly. "I don't think he did though." He nodded.

"I hope you're right."

When Brennan's phone rang, she was met with Zack's voice. He spoke in a steady stream of information. As she listened, not speaking, Booth only seemed more curious at her side. "Thanks, Zack," she hung up.

"What..."

"Blood type match on the blood I found, not a full match yet. COD on Grace Wills came to stabbing and a bleed out. And... Tilly's print burn is old." The last bit seemed to crush her spirit some. Booth put his hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. She nodded absently, and after a moment he let go. When she looked up, she'd found her resolve again.

"We'll track down Richard, we'll clear it up."

"Speaking as a witness..." she started and he nodded. "Richard would never hurt Tilly."

"How sure?"

"Very." Booth considered this. "But we should still talk to him."

"So we will," they headed back to the car. Just then, Brennan's phone rang again. Both stopped as she answered.

"Brennan."

"It's me," Angela spoke, and her tone sent pricklings up Brennan's spine.

"Everything alright?" she replied while signaling Booth.

"Well... we have a newwrinkle."

"How so?"

"Spoke with Billie Webb. Grace Wills had an abusive boyfriend. She left him, and two days later..."

"Got a name and address?" There was a pause. "Angela?"

"Took a while to get it out of her. Brennan... Grace Wills' boyfriend was Brighton Young."

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 7: To Fill the Gaps

_A/N: I'm back! So sorry that I've had to keep the wait on this long, but blame university for that... The story is juuuust about completed now, I'm on what should be the epilogue, if not chapter 13 to be followed by an epilogue. Anyway, I'm thiiis close to winter break, so the end should come shortly. Either way, the rest of the story should come uninterrupted, one chapter every Monday as usual :)_

**CHAPTER 7 - To Fill the Gaps**

Booth and Brennan sat in silence for quite a while. Booth wanted to say something, but he doubted that anything would change what she'd just learned.

Brennan tried as best she could, but there was no way around it. She knew the case, knew the facts. She just didn't know how to accept Brighton as a killer.

All of a sudden, she reached for the door handle, heading back toward the Brody home with a decisive stride. Instantly, she could hear Booth scrambling to catch up with her.

"Hey, wait. Wait…" he came to stand before her. "What are you doing?"

"I need to talk to Jane again," she tried to bypass him.

"I wouldn't recommend it, not right now, Temperance…" She looked up at him, lost for words. "It's getting late. We'll start fresh in the morning." She stood still for a moment, considering what he'd said. "Let's go."

x

That night, Brennan went to bed trying to push all of the mess of this case out of her head. The further things went, the more she feared a point in future time where everything would unravel and fall apart. Still she kept hope they could get through this.

Everything had come at them so fast, she could barely find her way back to reason and balance. She wasn't going to let it go on. Booth and the others had done their best through this, made sure she was allowed a hand in this.

These people weren't strangers to her, they were a part of her past. She knew no one expected her to be completely indifferent, least of all her. She needed to get back on track though. She owed it to Tilly McCrea, to Grace Wills… and despite what they'd discovered, she owed it to Brighton Young all the same.

Waking up the next morning, she got ready. She felt confident again, and her mind swam with new ideas. Most of all, one memory.

She'd been moved to a new home, a second home. It was the first time she'd been moved, first time she had to leave behind a new family. Then Sara Lynn arrived to this same home, she was so happy and thankful for a familiar face that she didn't even stop to question why both of them had been moved on the same day.

That brought her back to before, as she'd been reunited with Cristina, Leigh, and Perry. Perry had mentioned how he'd last seen them all two days before his eighth birthday when they'd moved him out. Unless her memory had failed – and she doubted it – that was the same day she and Sara Lynn were moved. That now made three of them.

When they left the apartment, Booth and Brennan headed to the FBI building. On the way, Brennan asked to see records on herself and the others on the list. He asked why, but she simply said it was a hunch.

Shortly after they'd arrived, a couple of the files had come in – the Costa twins. "Now will you tell me what's going on?" Brennan didn't reply as she opened the two files.

There was a part of her that felt like she was invading their lives. But then she knew Cristina wouldn't mind if it meant finding Tilly's killer. What she knew of their story was confirmed here. Their mother had been sixteen at their birth. She'd done her best to deal with the two girls, but in the next four years, she barely scraped by. Finally, she'd decided that for her daughters' best interests, she couldn't be counted upon. So the best she could do was let them go.

She kept the files parallel, scanned the dates. They'd been together, separated at times but always inevitably reunited. Finally, she found the home in both the files. What she also found… "They match…" she half-gasped.

"What does?" Booth asked. Brennan looked up, handing the files over.

"Brianna and Cristina Costa left the Brody home on August 3rd 1992."

"Okay, I don't…"

"So did I." That made him pause. "So did Sara Lynn Gill, Perry Langham…"

"And the others on the list…"

"They probably did, too…"

Over the next while, they waited as the other files came in. Brennan's belief toward Perry was confirmed. The same could soon be said of Leigh, Harley, and Brighton.

"Is there any way to know if others left on that day?" Booth asked, sitting back with a sigh.

"Probably, but I don't think there will be."

"You think this has anything to do with Tilly trying to reach you all?" Brennan paused, looking over the gathered files.

"Maybe." They were still silent for a moment. "Three years…" she whispered. Booth looked up. "She was at the Brody house from age 15 until she turned 18… Big run…" she looked back down. "Has Richard…"

"Not yet. I've got people looking for him right now. Look… there's something you should know."

"What?" she looked up at him.

"I looked into his background. From what I can tell… Richard Brody isn't who he says he is. He goes back about 25 years, but that's it…"

"How's that possible?" she frowned.

"I don't know exactly. I'm trying to figure it out."

For some time, Booth worked to figure out 'Richard Brody'. Sitting across from him, Brennan looked through the files, uncertain what she was looking for. It was easy to imagine that certain things might have happened around her back in the day and she wouldn't have noticed, an unfortunate result of being younger. But now, older and wiser, these files were telling a whole other story. She was seeing now that, even for the period since their separation, there were many things before they'd known each other that would indicate she'd been in the dark there too; parts of them had been strangers – like then too.

Leigh, for instance, was proving to be a revelation.

She'd only ever made vague references to her family and her life before the system. She was constant in expressing she was better off where she was now though, and here Brennan found out why. Leigh had been a runaway from age ten. She wasn't on her own for more than a few months before social services had gotten their hands on her. The marks on her showed signs of repeated abuse, physical and sexual. However she'd never been willing to identify her parents, and it was assumed 'Leigh Tanner' was an assumed name.

After leaving the Brody home, she'd spent the next year making a veritable tour of the DC foster system. There was a period after this where she was unaccounted for, and then she'd finished out her fostered years in relatively steady stays. The missing period stayed on Brennan's mind.

"Are they all still here?" Brennan asked Booth. He looked up from the file he'd been reading.

"We set them up in a safe house, seeing as we don't know how long…" Seeing the look in her eyes, he reached for a sheet and handed it to her. "Should I stay here, or…"

"Might be best if I…" she spoke slowly. He nodded.

"I'll keep looking. Keep me posted."

X

As she was approaching the safe house, the sort of irony of all of them sharing a home like this wasn't lost on her. No doubt it was bringing back memories for them too. An agent let her in, and soon she found the five of them in the kitchen, plus one. Perry, Harley, and Sara Lynn were sitting and eating while Cristina and Leigh were cooking. Standing by Cristina was a boy of about six years. She knew who it was – Brianna's son, Manny.

"Temperance," Cristina spotted her first. "Just in time for lunch."

"Actually, if I could borrow Leigh for a minute." Everyone looked up at that. After a moment, Leigh followed as they stepped into one of the rooms, shutting the door.

"What's going on?" Brennan hesitated as she looked back to her. She didn't want to have to bring up her past, but there was no other way.

"You should know I saw your file, I know…" Leigh's face registered this – no anger, but relief in a way.

"Seems like another life…"

"You left for a few months when you were about fifteen, you came back…" Leigh slowly nodded.

"I should probably have mentioned that, I just…"

"It's personal, I understand."

"No, that's not it." She sighed. "Last time I saw Tilly? It was those months." Brennan sat up. "Last house before I ducked out, it was a nightmare, and the thing was… the home before that, there was this boy, and… Couple of weeks into nightmare house, I was late and…"

"You were pregnant?" Leigh nodded.

"I knew they would make me get rid of the baby, and I couldn't let that happen. So I ran… again. By luck, I ran into Jane after a few weeks. I told her, and… she said I could come stay with them, off the books, until the baby came, then we'd see from there."

"And Tilly?"

"She was back at the house, never left. I was so glad to have her there, you know how she was with us…"

"Yeah…" Brennan smiled.

"She took care of me, next few months. Don't know that I could have dealt without her." At Brennan's look, she elaborated. "I lost the baby, it just… died. It was a girl…" Leigh cried. Brennan hugged her. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"You said… you should have mentioned it?"

"Yeah," Leigh nodded. "Something about Tilly and Richard felt changed… Sometimes they'd be the best of friends, but then other times… she was angry at him about something. I never knew what it was…"

Once Leigh had gathered herself back up, they were able to rejoin the group. At this time, Brennan suggested for Manny to step out. Cristina sent him off to watch television with his lunch.

"Did you find out anything?" Harley asked.

"You could say," Brennan nodded. They awaited anxiously. "One, Brighton might be dead." They reacted quietly, allowing her to continue. "Two, Richard Brody may not be who he said he was." The further she went, the more she could see the children in them. "Three, Tilly was looking for us, and I think I know what tied us together on that list. The eight of us on it, we all left the Brody home on the same day."

"What?" Sara Lynn's eyes grew wide.

"We verified. The six of us, Brianna, and Brighton, we all left on August 3rd." The facts settled and with them memories floated out.

"It all happened so fast, it was strange," Perry frowned. "I was in bed, but then ten minutes later I was in the car…"

"And Tilly wanted to tell us about this? Why?" Cristina looked to the others. Brennan sighed.

"I spoke with her fiancé. He seemed to think Tilly wanted to find us to tell us something before she died. If this was in fact what it was, then…"

"So you're saying…" Leigh started.

"I don't know… This is what I have for now. But if any of this brings anything to mind, please let us know?"

After all agreed, she got up to leave. She wasn't sure why she'd decided to keep the facts on Brighton and Grace Wills, but part of her almost didn't want to shift their image like hers had.

As she was approaching the door, Leigh caught up with her. "Temperance, I…"

"I won't tell, I promise." Leigh smiled, nodded. Then…

"About Richard…"

"Yes?"

"One day, when I was there, Tilly had an argument with him. She mentioned a name. Back then I thought she was talking about someone else, but now… I think it could have been about him, that she knew…" They both quieted at that. "Could he have… Is it possible…" she sighed.

"What was the name?"

"Devin…" Leigh recalled. The shock on Brennan's face must have been strong if Leigh's reaction was any indication. "What?"

"Tilly's father…"

"He killed her mother," Leigh thought back. Then she understood. "Oh…"

"Devin McCrea…" Brennan confirmed.

X

"How long before we know?" Booth asked on the phone. As his eyes caught someone entering his office, he saw Brennan return, sitting across from him. Just looking at her, he knew she had some vital information. "Thanks," he hung up. "What is it?"

"I…" she started, then paused.

"Did you find something?" She stared for a moment.

"Yes?" He stood, coming around to her side.

"That bad?"

"Comes off as a mistake on my part, I just… I don't know…"

"Okay, take it easy. What happened?"

"Well… I found out Richard Brody's real name…"

"Good," he nodded then, off her face, "Bad?"

"Devin McCrea." Now he understood. "It doesn't mean he killed Tilly."

"But it'll definitely raise his stock as a suspect."

"What do we do?"

"I've got people looking for him right now. When they find him…" He was cut off by the ringing of the phone. They shared a look, and Booth picked up. "Booth." He listened, looking back at Brennan. "Keep an eye on him but don't approach." She was already on her feet. "We'll be right there."

"Where is he?" she asked as they went into the elevator.

"Of all places? Cemetery." When they got to the car, "What do you know about the family?"

"Tilly's? Just that when she was five, like I told you, her father killed her mother. She wasn't in the house at the time. Apparently her father tried to come get her after, at the daycare, but the police were already on it. They chased him, but he got away. He was never caught."

"Until now," Booth nodded.

"When I told… him… that Tilly was dead, he looked so… lost. I don't understand how he could have done this, gotten to house all of us without anyone finding out who he was…"

"We'll get to the bottom of it, for now let's worry about finding him."

When they arrived at the cemetery, the officer directed them. They spotted him quickly, sitting before a grave stone. They were a few feet away when he looked up and saw them. He got to his feet and Booth started reaching for his gun.

"Wait, wait," he held a hand before him. When Booth stopped, Richard nodded, turning around and placing his hands on his head. "Go ahead."

"What am I arresting you for?" Booth asked.

"Her," Brennan spoke up. Booth looked to her, and she indicated the stone. Elizabeth McCrea. "Put your hands down, Richard," she spoke evenly. "One thing at a time." When he turned back to face them, they were all silent for a moment.

"I did it, I admit it. I've been running for too long. I should pay…"

"You have, in a way," Brennan seemed to understand.

"It won't ever be enough. And now, my… my Matilda, she…" he broke down.

"So you are Devin McCrea," Booth nodded.

"I haven't been, not for… years. Devin made a lot of mistakes, hurt of a lot of people in a lot of ways."

"And Tilly, she knew?" Brennan asked.

"She knew the part about her mother. She didn't know who I was, not until…" He paused, looked to Brennan. Somehow, she caught the leap.

"August 3rd 1992." Richard nodded.

"And she was just fine with it?" Booth doubted.

"It was more complicated than that."

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 8: To Make the Connections

_A/N: The story is done, huzzah:) I've started the prep on the 4th story... and heaven help me, I think I just had an idea for the 9th story (I had some for up to the 8th before ;))..._

**CHAPTER 8 - To Make the Connections**

_AUGUST 3RD 1992_

"Why'd you do it?" Tilly turned on Richard as silence settled. He looked up at her, looking every bit like he was about to enter into a conversation he'd been dreading despite the liberation it would allow on his soul. "Why'd you send them away?"

"Couldn't afford them, Tilly. We don't have the money anymore."

"Why?" He took a step toward her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I paid Mr. Sinclaire. He won't sue. He won't sue, so... you'll be alright." She blinked, dumbfounded.

"How much?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter! What's going to happen to them now? To Perry, Cristina..."

"They'll find them new homes, it won't..."

"You should have just let me go... Sent me to juvi for all I care, at least they..." Richard shook his head, his other hand finding her other shoulder.

"No, no, Tilly... Couldn't let that happen..."

"Why?" He wouldn't answer. He just stood there, looking everywhere but to her. "Tell me!"

"Because..." he shook his head, the precipice of needing to release what he'd kept secret all these months since she'd arrived making it impossible to breathe again unless he just let it out. "Because you're my daughter, that's why!" Her eyes shot open wide as she pried herself away from his grip, taking two steps back.

"No, I'm not..." her skin crawled.

"You are..." he cried.

"No, I can't... If I'm your... if you're my... then... then you..."

"I did, I killed Elizabeth, I didn't..." Hearing her mother's name, it was a punch in the gut just as it was confirmation. She felt like she was going to be sick, but she couldn't move. "That's not who I am anymore, you know that, you know me..." Her hand shot to her mouth as tears finally came free. "I know you must hate me, I won't ever hold that against you. All I ask is that you give me a chance to let you know how sorry I am..."

"How am I supposed to do that? Why shouldn't I just go to the cops?" He searched for his words, but he never looked away from her at that point.

"Please, I... I never wanted to lose you in the first place. I don't want it to happen again..."

xx

_TODAY_

"At first I think she only stayed because it was easier than being on the street. Then, as she'd put it, she wanted to protect the others... from me. After a while she began to understand, not what I'd done but what I'd become. She made it clear she could never forgive me, and I agreed. I could never be her father again, but we became friends. There were still rough patches, but over all... I was just happy to be in her life again."

"How did you get her in your home, as a foster child?" Brennan asked, still cautious of him. He smiled.

"I did nothing... I had hope, I'd dreaded... I wanted to see her, but the prospect of ever having to tell her... You must think I'm a coward... I do. When she walked into the house that first time, I held my breath... I thought she might recognize me... She didn't." Brennan turned to look at Booth, both recalling Brennan's insistance that Richard would never hurt Tilly. She could see Booth understood that. Yet Richard... Devin was a killer. He could give him a pass on some things... some.

"Who's this Sinclaire?" Brennan asked Richard. He frowned.

"Piece of work who used to live near the house." He turned to Brennan. "You might remember him. You kids used to call him something..."

"Creeper..." the word crawled out of her memory before she ever realized it. She turned to Booth as Richard nodded.

"Well you know how he was. And he really got to Tilly. She was always so peaceful, but he just... And then one time he pushed too far and well, when things were said and done, his car was just..." He sighed. "He knew it was her, she was going to be taken away, I couldn't..."

"So you paid him off," Booth guessed.

"Up until then, Jane didn't know... I told her everything..." He smiled. "I thought she'd leave me, but she... she helped. We got the money, but then..."

"You had to let some of us go," Brennan understood.

"I'd already lost her once... This way she got to stay, and you kids... You were okay, weren't you?" he asked with hope. She nodded. "She never forgave me, but most of all she never forgave herself. She felt responsible, always did. We often fought about it, even years later..."

"And Sinclaire?" Booth asked.

"For a while I feared he'd keep coming at us, but he moved out of the neighborhood a year later. Never saw him again." At the look Booth and Brennan shared, he grew fearful. "You don't suppose he's..."

"He may not have gotten at you again, but Tilly..." Booth spoke to Richard. "I need to take you in now." He nodded, offering his hands. Booth looked to Brennan before going to cuff him.

"I'll keep you posted, if we find something," Brennan promised.

"Thank you," he let out a breath.

x

"Doesn't seem fair, does it?" Brennan pondered as they drove off after taking Richard in.

"Is it ever?"

"I'm not saying he shouldn't be in jail, he killed someone, but... he's been a good man since, taking care of us..."

"I know..." he simply spoke.

"What's going to happen to the kids there now, and Jane?"

"We'll do our best, but they might shut her down." He saw the look flashing in her eyes without turning to her. "Our very best... I promise." She nodded.

"Last few days..." she sighed. "This case, Zack..."

"We'll get it done. And Zack will be alright. Can't put a clock on how long it takes, but he's working through it..."

"I still see it sometimes when I sleep..."

"I know... you talk," he looked at her. She smirked. "After this is over, I have the remedy to all ailments."

"The movie again," she guessed, and he gave a hearty nod.

"Can't argue with that," he shook his head. She nodded quietly, feeling that energy he sent to her. Her phone rang a moment later.

"Brennan," she answered.

"Blood on Brighton Young's living room floor? Brighton Young's."

"Okay..." her voice dropped at that. In an instant Booth had pulled the car over.

"There's more. Unit found traces of blood in the bathroom, in the tub... Matches Grace Wills. Got another scene."

"We'll be right there." She turned to Booth. "Brighton's..." He started the car. "May have found the crime scene on Grace Wills."

"Okay. You do your thing. I'll go talk to the landlord."

"Can't I come..." she started to ask. She realized the problem just as Booth went to explain.

"If we want to keep you on the case, might be best your previous visit doesn't come up."

"Right," she nodded. After a moment, "The blood in the living room was confirmed as Brighton's. I know I shouldn't assume until there's a body..." She paused. "How am I supposed to feel about this?"

"It's up to you."

"He killed Grace."

"Richard killed his wife," he reminded. She looked down.

"I haven't seen Brighton in... sixteen years. I'm not the same person now that I was back then... I don't know what he was like now... What if Grace wasn't the first?"

"We'll look into it."

"Tilly spoke with him." He looked up at her. "For about six minutes, two days before she died. When I was interrogated, I saw it on Tilly's phone records. They might have set up to meet."

"And he might have killed her..." Booth suggested. "They'll go through that house. If Tilly was there, we'll know."

They arrived at Brighton's home, and the place was crawling with activity. The two split up at the car. Brennan headed inside while Booth went to the landlord's home. His wife answered the door.

"Yes?" she spoke.

"Are you Mrs. Blaine?" She nodded. "I'm Special Agent Booth with the FBI."

"Yes, Cole mentioned you. Call me Mara," she nodded. "Come in." They went into the kitchen, where Mara sat at the table, on which rested a baby girl in a seat. Booth sat across from them with a smile.

"She's beautiful. How old?"

"Two months," Mara smiled back. "Time flies..."

"Yeah, sure does..." he thought of Parker. "Where's your husband?" he got back on topic.

"He just ran out to grab lunch. He should be back in twenty minutes. Would you like something? Coffee?"

"Sure," he nodded. As she stood, he figured she might have something to share too. "How well did you know your tenant, Mr. Young?" She turned after taking down a cup from the cupboard.

"Brighton? Barely," she shrugged. "He sort of kept to himself. Only time we ever really saw him was on the street if we'd happen to cross." She seemed to be relieved to have an opening to inquire about the scene outside. Booth figured it must have all looked odd from her point of view. "Why are they all..."

"We have reason to believe Mr. Young may have been involved in the death of a young woman. Also, he was likely attacked, possibly killed, in his living room. We're looking for him now."

"That's terrible," she shook her head, filling the cup before taking it to Booth.

"When's the last time you saw him?"

"I..." she thought. "It's hard to say. I've mostly been in here with Maggie these last few weeks."

"Anything you might know..." She thought again.

"I think... the last time was... maybe a month ago. We didn't talk... He's not very talkative." Booth nodded. "I need to give Maggie her bath. But Cole should be back soon. You can wait for him." Booth nodded as Mara took the baby for her bath.

Booth finished out his cup, then walked into the living room. He paced about, looking around the room. The possibility that Brighton had killed both Grace and Tilly would certainly explain how they'd both ended up at the park. But then what had happened to Brighton? Perhaps he wasn't dead, merely injured by his last victim before taking her down. The only problem was that Tilly couldn't fight back, not in her weakened state. So there was someone out there, if not two someones.

Cole Blaine finally returned, with lunch in tow. He was surprised to find Agent Booth in his living room. The look of panic in his eyes showed concern that something may have happened to his wife or daughter.

"Your wife let me in. She's giving the baby a bath," Booth explained. Cole relaxed. "Mr. Blaine, we have a couple of situations at your tenant's home, as you may have seen."

"Yeah... somehow I'm not surprised..." he shook his head as he deposited the lunch in the kitchen. "There was always something about him, I just..." he shook his head. "I don't know, maybe I just felt cautious, for Mara, and Maggie..."

"Did he ever... threaten any of you?" Cole shook his head.

"He was reclusive, kind of cold, but believe me if I knew him to be dangerous I'd have asked him to leave."

"There's a good chance he killed his ex." Cole looked up.

"Grace?" Booth nodded. "Oh man... She was a good girl. Before she'd disappeared, when Mara got pregnant, she knitted her a blanket. Maggie sleeps with it every night." As he took all of this in, Booth could almost see guilt in his eyes, like if he'd kicked out Brighton, Grace wouldn't be dead. Changing the subject, Booth took out a picture of Tilly.

"Have you seen this woman?" Cole took the photo, stared at it for a while.

"I..." he frowned. "I think I might, but... I can't figure..." He returned the picture. "I'm sorry... I think she just reminds me of someone. I see a lot of people everyday, with work. I run a store..."

"Blaine Books?" Booth nodded.

"Yeah..." Cole replied, surprised.

"It's across the street from where she worked." Clarity came to his face.

"I remember now. She was looking for a book for her daughter. I tracked it down for her, but she never came to pick it up."

"Yeah... She died too."

"Oh..." He took a moment. "I'm sorry, I don't know that I'll be much help." Booth nodded. "If there might be any way to send the book to her daughter..."

"I'm sure we can work something out."

Booth left the house soon after. He made his way to Brighton's. He met up with Brennan just as she was exiting the bathroom, where sounds told him others were still busy at work.

"It does appear Grace Wills was killed in there." She scratched at her neck as she looked back to him. "Anything from the landlord?"

"Nothing that gets us anywhere. We've got that report out on the local stations to see if anyone might have seen Brighton. Hopefully..." She nodded.

"We should get back to the lab, look back at what we've got, see where we're going."

"Yeah, good thinking. Look... I know this case has been hard on you..." he started, just as his phone rang. He sighed before reaching for his phone. "Booth."

"Hello..." a woman's voice greeted him.

"Who's this?"

"My name's Marjorie Dobbs. We met a few days ago."

"We did..." he trailed.

"You gave me your card... You were looking for Thomas..."

"The woman with the cat..." he remembered Thomas Walden's neighbor. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"That man, on the news? I've seen him..." Booth was about to signal Brennan, but her own phone rang and she stepped back to answer. So he returned his attention to Marjorie Dobbs.

"Where?"

"Here, in the building." Booth paused. "He knocked at Thomas' door."

"Did you see them talk?"

"I went inside my apartment. He... he was scaring Albert... my cat."

"Did you see him again?"

No, just this once. It was... about eight or nine months ago, when Albert was sick."

And around the time Grace Wills was killed, as Booth recalled.

"Thank you, Mrs. Dobbs." After taking her number for further questions, he hung up. When he looked up to find Brennan, he saw she was just hanging up as well. She had that look on her face, the one he knew meant she'd gotten some disturbing news. When she looked up, she saw he'd seen her. She approached with diversion.

"Marjorie Dobbs?"

"Thomas Walden's neighbor," he responded, respecting her decision. "Seems we're circling on him... again. Guess who dropped by his place about eight months ago."

"Brighton..." she murmured.

"The brainstorm at the lab is sounding better by the minute. We might as well get 'Tommy Tank' in there too, if he's this connected," he sighed. He saw then that Brennan was shrinking back. "Want to talk about that call now?" he spoke slowly.

"They found Brighton."

"They did?" he paused.

"A John Doe in a morgue in... New Jersey. They're sending him up. He'll be at the Jeffersonian in the morning." Booth nodded.

"Good. That's good, right?" She nodded. "Okay... How long's he..." She breathed in.

"He died the same day Tilly died."

TBC


	10. Chapter 9: To Take New Paths

_A/N: It's 4:18am... this is how much I love you guys ;)_

**CHAPTER 9 - To take new paths**

_MAY 1992_  
"Temperance, come on!" Brianna whispered as she approached her from behind, followed by Cristina.

"Is it time?" she closed her notebook. The twins nodded. She stood and followed them. They headed further into the house, snatching Leigh and Tilly along the way.

"Who else?" Leigh asked.

"Where's Claire and Pete?" Tilly asked.

"Making out," Brianna laughed. Cristina smacked her playfully. "Not coming," she 'corrected'.

"Sara Lynn? Harley?" Temperance suggested.

"I'll get 'em," Leigh ran off. She paused, facing them again. "Perry?"

"Yeah," the twins spoke together.

Once a month, some of them would get together and go see a movie. If there was a new arrival, they'd do a double feature. As they waited for Leigh to return with the others, Tilly nudged them and indicated Brighton sitting at the window.

"Should we?" Cristina gave her a look. "I know, he always says no, but wouldn't it be bad if he wanted it now and we just didn't ask anymore?"

"Fine, you do it," Brianna stood back.

"Alright," Tilly nodded, walking over to him. "Brighton?" He didn't respond. "Hey, you in there?" she put a hand on his shoulder. Instantly he looked over at her. She jumped, withdrawing her hand.

"What do you want?" he asked evenly.

"We... Well... We're going to the movies. You... want to come?"

"No," he replied before turning back to the window.

"Why not? It'll be fun. We'll get popcorn, and candy..." she tried tempting him, teetering slowly back and forth on her heels. "Can't stay cooped up in here all day." He remained quiet. "Okay... I could bring you back something. Red vines?" He looked back at her.

"Okay." She smirked.

"Okay. Well... bye," she nodded before returning to the others. "He's not coming," she looked back as they all did. He still looked out the window. His hand seemed to inch toward the spot Tilly had touched. "We'll get through to him eventually."

"Behold the optimist," Brianna laughed as Leigh returned with the others. "Come on, let's go." They headed off.

The next month, Brighton would quietly follow.

x

_TODAY_  
Brennan had called the safe house to tell the group about Brighton. They asked to be there to see the body. It was clear they all needed to do it. So the next morning, the six of them awaited the van like a procession in wait. They headed into the morgue together. They were left together.

The room was, for lack of better words, dead silent. Each of them observed the body bag with the fear of the kids they used to be. This was not someone of their adult lives, so their adult selves could not understand.

"I won't do a thing until we're all ready," Brennan promised. One by one they nodded.

"Is he... will he-he be..." Sara Lynn indicated her face and Brennan understood.

"He's been in a cooler for about a week. It'll be minimal," she explained. After a moment, she reached for the zipper. She was as traumatized about this as they were, but she couldn't let it show.

The sound of the zipper was deafening, but it could not surpass the sound of each of their thumping hearts, no doubt. As Brennan pulled back the flap, all stared quietly. Their eyes would hover between two things. Firs they'd look at the face. It was Brighton alright. He'd grown, like all of them, but it was him. Then they would look to the mess of wounds on his chest, unmistakable as stab marks. There were twelve, Brennan would later know.

"That's a lot of rage..." Harley commented, as each eventually had to look away. Sara Lynn comforted Cristina, having flashes of her previous morgue visit, identifying her sister. Here she had not had to stare into the face so much like her own, but it had hit hard nonetheless.

"There's something else... Brighton and Tilly... they died on the same day." The others looked at her. "They may have been killed by the same person."

"So we still have to hide?" Perry guessed. Brennan nodded.

"We're trying to get you back home as soon as we can."

x

After leaving the morgue and the group, Brennan rejoined Booth and together they went into the lab. Angela, Hodgins, and Zack waited on them. also waiting for them was a big white board. They now noticed Angela held pictures in her hands, and both Hodgins and Zack had markers.

"We thought this might help," Zack explained. "There are a lot of elements."

"No, it's good," Brennan nodded.

"Okay, so... three victims. Tilly," Angela stuck the picture on the board, Hodgins following behind to mark the name. "Grace... and Brighton."

"Tilly was killed eleven days ago, at an unknown location. Cause was a broken neck. She was then dropped off at the camping grounds," Zack followed, marking this next to Tilly's photo. "Grace was killed 8 months ago, in Brighton Young's apartment. She was stabbed and bled out. She was also dumped at the camping grounds, in the water. And Brighton was killed eleven days ago, at his apartment. He was stabbed repeatedly and somehow ended up in New Jersey."

"Tilly and Grace ended up in the same place. We have every reason to believe Brighton killed Grace." As Brennan spoke, Hodgins went along marking what she said. "We need to see if it's possible that Brighton may have killed Tilly."

"Brighton, he was a big guy. Whoever got to him, they either knew him or they were quick," Booth commented. Angela stepped up.

"I'll see about the angle of the stabs."

"Suspects?" Brennan asked. "On both?"

"As far as the list, all have been cleared either by alibis or Agent Eckers. And because Tilly and Brighton died on the same day, it's on the same line. But we'll still check, to be sure," Booth explained. "We've been relying on that list a lot, the foster angle. Maybe it's time we broaden our horizons."

"Starting with Thomas Walden?" Brennan nodded.

"Also known as 'Tommy Tank'. We know he camps where Tilly and Grace were found. We know he's close to Billie, Grace's roommate and best friend. And we know Tommy got a visit from Brighton shortly before Grace was killed. "He's got an alibi for eleven days ago. But then... it's possible he could have stepped out. It's just... not... possible for him to have made it to Jersey."

"Doesn't mean he doesn't have answers we might need," Brennan pointed out.

"Well I'll try and get them out of him when he arrives."

"We're missing something..." Angela sighed, looking back at the board.

"We'll go back, start fresh on the two of them," Booth nodded to them all.

x

"I'll be glad when this case is over," Hodgins shook his head as he sat by Angela's desk. She was working at the blade angles and the likely chain of events in regards to Brighton's death.

"Well then let's focus," Angela sent up the image of Brighton's torso. "Most of the stabs are grouped around the same area with only a light variation." She indicated them and Hodgins frowned.

"Looks like... someone crouched over him while he was down and just went to town."

"All except this one," Angela pointed out one which was angled more. "I think this was the first, when Brighton still stood. I read the report, it said something about bruises on his back." She pulled out a photo. They both stared at it.

"What if... he was stabbed, and the killer used that momentum to sort of... shove him to the ground. He'd have been disoriented enough not to stop the other blows." She considered this, nodded.

"Sounds about right," Angela approved. "Good job."

"Hey, I have to try and impress you sometimes." Angela chuckled, heading back to her desk. "I should head back, got some tests to run... But I believe I owe you lunch."

"Yeah you do," she smiled.

x

As Angela had been working on the stab marks, Booth was meeting with Tommy Tank. "We sure meet a lot these days," Booth started.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, seeming at ease.

"Now I'm not going to mistrust without cause. You were in the hospital with Billie that day. But, you know, I keep running back into you all the time. So I thought it was time we had anothe chat." Thomas nodded. Booth placed Brighton's photo on the table. "You know this man?" Thomas stiffened, sat up.

"Yeah, that's Bright."

"Don't like him, uh?"

"Used to see him around the diner, with Grace. I know his type, I could see it. But there wasn't much I could do. Then Grace disappeared..." His face fell. "Billie said you found her..."

"We did. We've also established the likelihood that Brighton Young killed her."

"Good... I mean, you'll stop him now."

"Someone already went to the trouble." Thomas blinked. "He ended up in a Jersey morgue." Thomas took this in. "We heard he visited you about eight months ago?"

"Uh, yeah..." he came back to his senses. "A few weeks before, he'd wanted to go camping, he looked about the most excited I'd ever seen him. I told him about where I went, what he needed. He and Grace went out there for a weekend. Shortly after, that's when he came over."

"What'd he want?"

"I don't know," Tommy shook his head. "I didn't let him in." Booth gave a look for him to elaborate. "Billie, she... she told me about what Brighton had been doing to Grace. I'm not a violent guy. But I thought if I had to face him I might lose it."

"Did he say anything? Standing out there?"

"No... Never knew him to be a man of many words, except when he spoke about going on that trip. I mean, if you'd seen him, it was night and day. I don't know if that helps any..."

"Maybe, it might. Mr. Walden, did Brighton Young ever mention the name Tilly, or Matilda McCrea?" Thomas thought for a moment.

"Not to my knowledge. Who is she?"

"She was looking for him; she was in foster care with him..." That lit up Tommy's mind.

"There was a woman who came by the diner, a couple weeks ago, Billie told me about it. She mentioned foster care."

x

"Gotta appreciate the dead man talking," Hodgins started as Brennan approached.

"Brighton?" she guessed. He nodded.

"His dump site was convenient, no doubt hasty. Whoever left him there probably wanted to get in and get out as fast as possible. The body speaks for it. I respect the bones, but in this case it was all flesh and bruises, and..." he clicked something on a keyboard and an image popped up on one of the screens. "This, and..." he clicked again, giving another image, "... this."

"Fiber," Brennan observed the first image. "A blanket?"

"Possibly. Still looking into it. Now this," he turned to the second image, "It was embedded in scratches, likely inflicted going over the bridge rail."

"He was dry, on shore..." she started, seeing already what must have happened.

"He was found in the morning, not too far from one bridge. So he was likely dropped over in the water the night before but then washed up soon enough to get some drying time."

"Where's the bridge?" Brennan asked. Hodgins pulled up a map and indicated it. "Likely route from DC?" Hodgins highlighted this as well. "Okay, good. Where's Angela?"

"She's talking to Billie Webb. She had a good rapport with her, Booth thought it might help to use that."

x

"Billie, we spoke with Thomas Walden," Angela started. Billie smiled. "He mentioned a woman who was looking for Brighton a couple of weeks ago?"

"Yes," Billie confirmed.

"Do you remember what she said?"

"She... I don't know how to explain... She was nervous, anxious, and... kind of mad."

"Crazy mad or angry mad?"

"A little of both," Billie clarified. "I could tell she was trying not to show it but..."

"And she mentioned foster care?"

"It was sort of implied. When I asked what it was about, she said it was a family business. Grace had told me Brighton used to be in foster care, so I asked if that was what she meant. She sort of changed then, like she shouldn't have been there. She told me to never mind, and then she left."

"Do you remember what she looked like?"

"I'm not sure," Billie frowned. "I'd know her if I saw her though." Angela produced Tilly's picture. "That's not her," Billie shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Angela sat up, aware of this as meaningful. Billie nodded.

"She looked similar though, certain features." With a sigh, Angela reached for pictures of the people from the list. She took out the boys, then Sara Lynn - she was black, bypassing the similar features. She left Leigh, even though she was blonde and not brunette like Tilly. This left Leigh, Cristina,... and Brennan. But again, Billie shook her head. "None of them."

"Thanks. This will help a lot," Angela smiled.

x

"Yes, just send them to Dr. Brennan at the Jeffersonian," Booth finished his phone call just as he spotted Zack coming his way. "What do you have?"

"Nothing?" he frowned, then understood. "No, it's not about the case, I..." The change in his posture told Booth everything he needed in order to understand what Zack was getting at. "I wanted to say thank you."

"Hey, don't mention it," Booth assured him.

"No, I... I mean it. I thought about what you said, and you were right. Hopefully I can get there..."

"I'm sure you will," Booth nodded. "If you ever need to talk again, just go for it, alright?" Zack nodded. "Good... I need to see Brennan."

"She's in her office," Zack informed him.

"Thanks," Booth patted his shoulder as he passed. When he arrived, she was napping on her couch. He smiled to himself and, though he hated to disrupt her he had to talk to her. He knew how much this case was weighing down on her and more than anything he wanted to will it away from her as soon as they could. He crouched before the couch, reaching for her hand which hung near her head. Her face shifted, recognizing contact. A moment more and her face relaxed as she identified it.

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"Just after two in the afternoon." She frowned, still half asleep. "You're at the lab, remember?" Slowly her eyes opened. "Hi," he smiled.

"Oh..." she smiled back shyly. Still groggy, she sat up. "Guess I haven't been sleeping much. Need coffee..."

"Well then let's go."

Soon after they sat in the coffee shop, humming in the scent coming from their cups. Soon Brennan was properly awake. Booth told her what he'd gotten from Thomas Walden and what Angela had gotten from Billie Webb. Naturally her attentions veered strongly on the second part.

"Anyone fit the description in the Brody home?"

"No, not really. But then it was years ago."

"We're trying to track down the others. We're also trying to pull records from his homes before and after the Brody home. That's a lot of people..." Brennan considered this. "What about the camping thing? Any clue why that might have lit him up?"

"Could be from before he was in foster care. Either way, not much help there. I'll ask the others if they remember anything."

"Okay." There was a pause. "So what's your take on the 'mystery girl'." Brennan considered this quietly for a time.

"I'm starting to think... I might know how they both died on the same day... Tilly and Brighton."

"How's that?"

"Mystery girl confronts Brighton, kills him. Tilly shows up..."

"... and gets caught in the crossfire," Booth joined in. "If that's the case, we should go through Brighton's home... again."

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 10: To Consider the Past

**CHAPTER 10 - To Consider the Past**

_TWO WEEKS AGO_

Tilly sat in her hotel room. She couldn't bring herself to pace anymore, but it didn't mean she wasn't nervous. For one, She'd waited years to seek them out. Now that she was doing it, she wondered how it would go, if they would react badly. But the bigger concern was not part of the process itself, but rather what it meant that she was doing it now.

She was dying. She'd known it as an eventuality for some time, and she'd done her best to deal with it. It was easier before, it still seemed at a distance in one way or another. But she knew she was nearing the end now... and that was a whole other kind of fear. In that instant she closed her eyes and thought of Ian and Carlee.

If it was possible, she was more afraid of what her death would mean to them than actually dying. Her life had never had as much meaning as when they came into it. She had made a mental deal with whoever would listen to allow her to see her daughter's birthday before she'd have to go.

Now here she sat, alone with her very last life goal.

She looked at her list. She'd placed them in alphabetical order. She didn't know why. She'd already made some calls, but none of them had gotten her anywhere, because she'd been afraid. She couldn't do that anymore. All it did was waste precious time. With a deep breath, she took her phone and dialed the last number. The phone rang for the fourth time, and she thought about hanging up. But then...

"Hello?"

"Is this Brighton Young?" she asked evenly.

"Who's this?" the man asked. Time of truth...

"I don't know if you'll remember me. We used to live in the home of Richard and Jane Brody. My name is Matilda McCrea, I went by Tilly?" There was a pause.

"Long time..." He remembered.

"Yeah..." she lightly laughed, relieved. "I'm not bothering you, am I? I can call back..."

"No, it's alright. What's this about?"

She took a breath. So many times she'd thought of what she'd say. Now here she was, and she just hoped those were the right words. Most of all she wanted to say these things face to face. Still, she had to convince them to a meet.

"Hello? Are you still there?" his voice brought her back to attention.

"There are some things that have happened in the past, things I've hoped just as long to some day get to discuss with you. To you it may seem out of the blue, but it's been a long time coming. And the truth is if I'll ever get a chance to do it, now is all that's left."

"To do what?" he asked.

"To make amends."

x

_TODAY_

They'd been at this all day. First it had been only Booth and Brennan, going through the lists. It wasn't just about identifying female foster siblings of Brighton Young, but finding the ones that matched the description. Billie had tried to be more precise, but she couldn't help further. Still she was positive she could identify the woman on sight. They could hardly rely on files, as pictures or no, time and aesthetics had changed them.

After a time, Angela had joined them. Then came Hodgins, Zack, even Goodman. To their surprise, Agent Eckers came to offer her services. Before long they had their system down. They alternated on the phone task. When it came around to dinner time, they ordered chinese.

"Number three is clear," Hodgins declared, hanging up the phone. They'd assigned the homes numbers, to make things easier. Once the 'candidates' of each home were identified, they worked to locate them and determine them either suspect or clear of doubt.

"I doubt any of the earlier homes will bring results," Agent Eckers commented.

"What's your point?" Goodman asked.

"Speaking only from intuition, I just have a feeling this is where we need to look. The little I know of this situation..." She turned to Brennan. "What's your take on Mr. Young? Out of all of us you're the only one who knew him, lived with him day in, day out." Brennan considered this. "From the files we know he arrived a month after you. Do you recall meeting him?"

x

_FEBRUARY 17TH 1992_

"Is he here yet?" Sara Lynn asked, standing behind her. Temperance looked out the window again.

"I don't see anything," she scanned the street - no car. "Wait..." she squinted. "I think... car... car!" she called louder on the second time. The magic word. Before long, curious faces began to trickle in.

"Alright, let's not crowd him, people," Richard pushed his way through with a chuckle.

Most of them drifted off, though Temperance remained with Sara Lynn, attending to the latter's infamous curiosity. Soon Jane arrived as well. A moment later, the doorbell rang and Richard went to answer. Temperance and Sara Lynn could only hear what was going on, being blocked from view by the door. After a moment though, Richard entered with a man they were all familiar with, from social services, and then the boy.

Temperance's first impression was that the boy looked unaffected. She remembered the dread in her when she'd made her own entrance. But then she supposed this wasn't his first time - by far.

When the boy looked over and saw the two girls looking at him, his observers startled. He gave a silent wave though, moved on. They would soon know his name, though not through him. In fact for a number of weeks they would believe him to be mute. They nicknamed him Zombie... that was how he seemed most times.

The first who'd gotten him talking was Tilly.

x

_TODAY_

"It was who she was... She got people." She fell quiet.

"Maybe..." they looked up when Zack spoke. "Maybe it's not a coincidence... this girl looking like her."

At this suggestion, and the implications it brought with it, the rest of the room joined in Brennan's silence. They knew what Brighton was capable of, through Grace. The fact that she may not have been the first had somehow not crossed their minds in this context. Booth reached for a stack of files and placed them within their 'circle'.

"Post-Brody home," he announced. Everyone got to work, dividing and conquering. Brighton's foster days had rounded to a conclusion in one final home after that of Richard and Jane, having already been seventeen at the time.

They were still in early stages of working up some contenders when they got a call from the unit over at Brighton's home - more blood. Angela spoke up, seeing conflict in Brennan's eyes.

"Go. We'll keep at it." Brennan smiled, looking to Booth. Wordlessly, he followed as they headed out. In the car, a question hung on Booth's mind. He considered for a while whether or not to ask it. Finally though he could tell she was aware of his internal mental debate. "What is it?"

"Brighton... you... did he ever..."

"No," she assured him.

"Okay," he nodded slowly.

They arrived once again at Brighton's home. This time though they didn't even need to enter the house. They were stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the door.

"What do we have?" Booth asked.

"Under the stair, here," the man crouched and lit up the area with his flashlight. The trickle was discreet but present. Booth leaned in to observe this. His attention moved to the steps themselves, touching them. After a moment, he looked to Brennan.

"There were recently repainted." She nodded.

"Take them back to the lab." The man nodded and went to get the needed tools. Brennan stood back, observing the set-up. She could see it in her mind now. Tilly happens upon the scene inside, becomes faced with Brighton, killer, perhaps tries to get away and gets sent down the stairs.

"We should check with neighbors across the street, see if they might have spotted something," Booth came up next to her.

"I should get to the lab," she reminded him. "The steps..." He nodded.

"Alright. Just as well. They're never happy when we come knocking at this hour," he sighed. She smiled. He gave her the car keys and headed out across the street. Soon she was handed the packaged steps and she took them to the car. As she drove off she could see a door being slammed in Booth's face. He spotted her and gave a 'see?' nod.

Further, she pulled out her phone, called 'central', as Hodgins had deemed their work room with the foster files. In fact that was how she was greeted.

"Central," Hodgins spoke, no doubt knowing it was her.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Slowly. People get cranky..."

"Yeah, so I've heard. I need you and Angela back at the lab."

"You got it. I could use a change of pace."

x

"Sorry to bother you, sir, this shouldn't take..." Booth started, but the old man waved his hand up and shook his head.

"At this point this is the most entertainment I'll have on a given day. Please, come, sit," he led him into his living room and they sat. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Are you aware of the situation across the street?"

"Hard not to be, isn't it? Although trying to get a straight story is another matter."

"Were you here Tuesday before last?" The old man considered this.

"Yes, I was."

"Did you see any stranger cars or people at Mr. Young's?" The man thought, shook his head. "How about ones that you knew?" At this, there was the slightest of changes in the man's features. He tried to keep it discreet, but Booth had seen it.

"No one," he looked Booth right in the eye, no flinch or doubt.

"Are you sure?"

"Nothing stands out, I'm sorry," the old man held.

"Alright," Booth nodded, standing. He figured they could talk to him again by day. He was protecting something... someone.

All he wanted was for this to be over, for her. He wanted justice for Tilly, Grace, and even Brighton. But as to Brennan, it was a whole other matter.

x

"I'm just saying after all this, we might want to rethink it," Hodgins was telling Angela as the two of them made their way into the room where Brennan was observing the removed steps from up close. Hearing the voices, her eyes flickered sideways for a moment before returning to the steps.

"We're not going to get eaten, Jack," Angela rolled her eyes. "We'll get a tent, a nice big sleeping bag..." she edged on with a grin. He lowered his head with a smirk. After a moment, they reconnected to the present situation, giving their attention to Brennan.

"Hodgins & Montenegro here," he announced.

"Need to get under this new coat of paint," Brennan explained, still transfixed. "In all likelihood, this is where Tilly was killed."

The longer she looked at the steps, propped up as they were, the more she found that her brain was forcing her to think of it. Tilly, already being separated from the peaceful life she'd made for herself, tumbling down the steps as she was pushed by someone that remained veiled at this time.

After a time, they had gotten some results. As Brennan stood and observed, the covered stains of blood were revealed. And with that, they found a point of impact. Angela brought up an image of the skull. The two lined up perfectly.

"It's a match," Angela spoke for the sake of confirmation. Brennan approached.

"What else?"

"Force of impact that strongly supports the push theory." Brennan nodded. "This is good, isn't it?" Angela asked slowly.

"Yes," Brennan answered after a moment. She rubbed at her eyes. Angela sighed.

"Sweetie, you haven't been sleeping right, have you?"

"Sure, I mean..."

"Not buying it. But don't worry because I've got the solution to all that," she nodded, ducking out of the room before Brennan could protest. Hodgins watched her go with a smile. When he looked back to Brennan, he found she was staring back with a chuckle in her face.

"Please, don't be a girl," he shook his head. She blinked, realizing for once that she'd just smiled. She almost felt these days that seeing Hodgins and Angela so downright happy with one another... it made her feel better. Of course there was her and Booth too, but what she felt there was how she hadn't been herself and because of that they were suffering, both of them. But it wouldn't have to be this way for much longer - not if she had anything to say about it.

x

Booth looked at his watch as he exited the last home within proper range of Brighton's. He may not have gotten any answers beyond the elusive old man, but the good thing about these visits was that he'd planted the need to remember in their minds. After a night's rest, something might come through.

He was heading to his car, which had been driven back to the scene no doubt per Brennan's request, when he spotted Mara Blaine sitting on her front porch, gently rocking little Maggie in her arms with a murmured song. He walked toward the house, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. She saw him and smiled innocently.

"She likes the stars."

"Yeah, I do too," Booth looked to the sky for a moment.

"She won't sleep unless she's seen them before closing her eyes. They were the first thing she ever saw... through the sun roof of our car," Mara recalled. "Not quite what I'd expected," she looked back to Maggie. "But it was perfect." Booth climbed the steps and sat at their side.

"May I?"

"Sure," Mara nodded with a smile as she handed over the two-month-old. She fussed for a moment but then she melted back into calm.

"Look at those big blue eyes," Booth smirked.

"Cole says he's glad she's got mine, then he's with both of us at any time he's with one of us..."

"Mara," he addressed her as she'd allowed him to, "Did you see anything on the day of the murders?" She shrugged, looking up to the skies. There was a look in her eyes he couldn't explain, faraway.

"I spend most of my days with Maggie. Other times I take her to visit old Mr. Jacoby across the street." Booth nodded.

"Met him tonight. He seems nice."

"He is," Mara nodded. "Very kind. He's all alone. I know how that feels..." her voice faltered. He turned to her. He was going to ask what she meant when both paused, hearing the phone ring inside. The distraction was only a moment.

"It's good you're looking out for him, that he's not alone..."

"Yes..." she smiled, looking down to her daughter.

"And your loneliness was taken away too." She looked to him, nodded. "What do you..." he started to ask when the front door opened behind them. They turned to see it was Cole, handset still in his hand. He paused, finding Booth there, with his daughter in his arms.

"Agent Booth..." he started, then remembered the phone. "Someone calling for you," he turned to his wife.

"What..." she looked to her watch. "Who is it?" Booth turned his attention to Maggie, not wanting to intrude on the Blaines. The girl had fallen asleep by then, and Booth could tell she had indeed fallen asleep with stars in her eyes. That only lasted so long though when a name drew him back.

"A Zack Addy, he works in a lab or something?"

"What's he want?" Mara asked as Booth listened discreetly, pretending to be adjusting the blanket around Maggie.

"I don't know, he wouldn't say. He called you by your maiden name," he pointed out with surprise. As Mara was handed the phone, Booth stood to Cole.

"She's asleep..." With a nod, Cole took Maggie and went inside. Booth turned to Mara.

"Hello?" she was speaking into the phone. Booth took it from her. She paused, looking at him.

"Thanks Zack, I've got this," he hung up. He sat by Mara again. "We need to talk."

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 11: To Circle the Wagons

_A/N: Sooo sorry for the delay! University is insane..._

**CHAPTER 11 - To Circle the Wagons**

"That's her," Billie Webb confirmed next morning. looking through the one-way mirror into interrogation.

"You're sure?" Booth asked.

"Absolutely," Billie nodded. Booth and Brennan shared a look as they went into the hall.

The previous night had been a confusion on several people, no doubt. None more than Mara Blaine. First she had confirmed to Booth she'd kept certain aspects of her ties to Brighton Young secret.

Formerly Mara Howley, the girl had been three years old when her parents and her older brother had died. With no family to step in, she'd landed in foster care. She got by peacefully enough for the next nine years. Then when she was twelve, Brighton Young left the Brody home and arrived at hers. It would remain as such for five months, until Brighton was of age.

As to the matter of her relationship with him though, she'd clammed up instantly. Booth asked that she come in to the FBI early next morning. If he could have just taken her in, he would have. But they had nothing solid to place her there yet.

And the morning after, she'd been there, not just on time but early. She'd come alone, her husband staying at home with the baby. All they'd come to establish the night before was that she had withheld her previous ties to Brighton because she didn't feel it necessary.

As Booth and Brennan were to interrogate Mara, the rest of the team was working hard to prove - or disprove - her involvement in Tilly and Brighton's death. The confusion came as part of the interrogation. Booth and Brennan argued whether they should take this one way or another. Booth suggested not going in on the foster-care-relating angle right away, holding on to it in the event the other way didn't work out.

When they'd walked into the interrogation room, Mara looked roughly at ease, not aware of what might be happening. They sat across from her. "Look," she started, "I don't see why it's a big deal. So I knew him... it was five months when I was twelve. I wasn't..."

"But see, something like this makes us think you have something to hide. And in this situation, what happened in there, three murders..."

"What?" she reacted in shock. "Three?"

"You know about Grace, I assume?" Mara nodded sadly.

"We became friends... sort of out of the blue. I just can't..."

"Were you aware Brighton was abusing her?" Mara looked at her, blinking. Her eyes turned down after a moment. "He did it to you too, didn't he?" Brennan asked softly. Mara didn't look up, but the shift in her posture gave them all the answer they needed.

"Please..." she spoke, her head wavering side to side though her eyes remained firmly planted in her lap. "My husband, I... I never told him about that. Please, don't tell him."

"We won't," Booth assured her. "But you need to be straight with us from now on. Alright?"

"Yes," she nodded. AFter a moment, she allowed her eyes to turn back up.

"Did Brighton know who you were after he moved in to the house as your husband's tenant?"

"No. And I sure didn't want him finding out. I've been so terrified of that moment ever coming."

"Well, it won't." She looked to Booth. "Brighton's dead." Her eyes grew wide. "He was murdered in the apartment, along with a woman." Mara allowed for this to sink in. "Where were you Tuesday before last?" She looked up in surprise, almost hurt.

"What?" her eyes wavered.

"The day of the murders... We need to accont your presence." She didn't reply, turning her head down. "We have a warrant to inspect your car and search your house." She rubbed at her forehead. "We need to know where you were."

"I-I don't, I..." At this moment there was a knock at the door. Billie had arrived. So they'd gone into the other room. Billie only had to look at her for an instant, Mara's emotional state as further proof, to confirm her as the girl who'd come looking for Brighton at the diner. Out in the hall now, they considered their situation.

"There's something else going on and we're not seeing it," Booth shook his head, considering their options. "I'm going to pay another visit to Randall Jacoby, see if he's more willing to talk now. You go back in there and talk to her." The look in his eyes made clear what he wanted her to do - use the foster connection.

"Okay," she nodded. "I need to check in with the lab first," she told him before he walked off. When she did, she found no real advances. Mara Blaine's home and car were both still being checked out at the moment. She was told however that it shouldn't be more than a few hours before they had something for her and Booth.

Now as she stood outside the interrogation room, she wondered how she'd go about this conversation. She knew what she had to accomplish. That wasn't the issue. But then it was how she had to get there, that she had to use this one part of herself she didn't exactly go around parading... She found her courage though, thinking of Tilly and what had happened to her. With that, she went in.

x

"Agent Booth. I thought I might be seeing you again. Come in," Randall Jacoby stepped aside just as he'd done the night before. They sat in the living room.

"You should know we've brought in Mara Blaine for questioning." Jacoby didn't budge, though some part of him didn't seem able to sit by unaffected. "You're trying to protect her, is that it?" No budge. "I get it, you know? You care about her a lot, she visits you..."

"I have four children of my own, Agent Booth. I'm lucky if I hear from them on a holiday. But that little girl across the street is more of a daughter to me than any of those others. What I may or may not know? I won't let you use it to hurt her, or her child. You can lock me up if it makes you feel any better," he spoke in fury.

"What about the people she may have killed," he chose his words carefully. "What about the woman's family? She has a little girk, too. Her name's Carlee, she just turned seven."

"I won't talk," Mr. Jacoby persisted.

x

As Brennan sat across from Mara, the two women kept quiet for a time. For Brennan, it was an attempt to set her opening words. She sighed, sitting up.

"Before Brighton..." Mara looked up. "Before he was in your home, he was in mine. It was my first home, I was fifteen. He was... odd. Never thought he would become..." In a way, the words were fed through a connection to her past self, to the girl in that house who'd known young Brighton.

"I was twelve..." Mara began to speak after a moment. She looked up to Brennan, and there too she could see the child in her. "Not my first home," she shook her head.

"How was he?" Mara wrapped one arm around herself.

"First few weeks, he didn't speak to me but... I could feel him looking, almost all the time. I wasn't scared, I didn't think... First time he spoke to me though... I knew. I couldn't... I couldn't stop him," her voice wavered with an attempt to keep tears at bay.

"Did you ever tell anyone?" The second arm went around.

"One of the other girls. I thought they wouldn't believe me, or I'd end up on the street, or he'd..." She closed her eyes. "When he finally left, I was relieved, he was gone."

"But then he became your tenant."

"I thought I was losing it. Of all the places, of all the people, HE had to move THERE. It was agony, keeping Cole out of it... And then he saw me... he didn't remember."

"And he never knew?" Mara remained quiet. Brennan shifted back to the 'present' as she watched Mara shrink into her chair. "Mara? Did he find out?"

"No," she answered right away, quick on it. She looked up, locking eyes with Brennan. "No," she repeated. She didn't believe her, but she let it go for now.

"The steps were repainted recently, at Brighton's?" This appeared to be news to her. "There was blood under it, belonging to a murder victim. "She showed a picture of Tilly. "Do you know this woman?" She watched Mara as she looked at the picture. Her face seemed to close upon itself, filled with... fear? "Mara?" She put the picture down, slid it back to Brennan.

"Doesn't ring a bell," she spoke evenly.

"Mathilda McCrea, also in the same foster home I was in with Brighton." Mara shrugged. "Do you know this park? The camping?" she showed a picture.

"Not personally. Grace told me about it once; Brighton took her there. She said it was the happiest she'd ever seen him, that he called it "His Place". Why do you want to know?"

x

"Zack, what are you doing?" Angela asked as she stood behind him. He didn't reply, busy digging through a box. After a moment he pulled back and held out an evidence bag. "What's this?"

"It was among the items brought back from the park with Tilly's remains."

"It's a t-shirt," she observed, turning it over in her hands. That was when she saw it, crawling through a fold on to a sleeve - a stain. "White paint."

"We should test it against the paint from the steps."

"Might be able to get a lot more too." She pressed her hand to his shoulder. "Good job," she smiled as they went to find Hodgins.

x

"Look, you've got it all wrong," Cole insisted to Booth as he walked into the Blaine home as the search was in full swing. "Mara would never hurt a soul."

"Can you confirm her whereabouts at the time of the murders and the hours following?"

"Yes," Cole nodded.

"You're lying," Booth easily pointed out.

"Believe what you will. My wife is innocent."

"We're not running on assumption, nor do we intend to charge her without reason. But she's got questions to answer right now, so unless you have hard evidence proving otherwise then it's going to have to be this way." They were quiet for a moment.

"If she held things back it was in no way to deceive. She's cautious, that's all."

"Well if that's the case then you've got nothing to worry about."

x

"I know there's something you're not telling," Brennan spoke slowly. Despite the possibility that this was the person who had killed both Tilly and Brighton, something held her back. "It'll only make it worse later." From the look on her face, she could see Mara was well aware of this, and yet she remained silent. Eventually, Brennan left the interrogation room.

She checked in with Booth, who told her they hadn't found anything so far. She got in touch with the lab next, and there she was only slightly luckier. Still, there was promise of a development, so she headed there.

Arriving at the lab, she was presented with the shirt Zack had found. The item now laid out, the spread of the paint marks was better seen.

"This is what appears to have happened," Hodgins started. "Brighton was killed, then Tilly. Our killer had to dump the bodies, but the blood on the steps, being a dead giveaway, needed some more immediate attention. Tilly is taken out of view and after a quick change out of bloody clothes, the killer gets to it with the paint. Not much time to lay around, dumping begins. First, the camping grounds. The killer lets go of the paint strewn shirt, perhaps when she... or he, sees... this." He indicated an area.

"Blood transfer," Brennan stated.

"Rubbed on over wardrobe change."

"It was panic. No time to think, just act," Angela jumped in.

"Probably hoped to do everything not to have both deaths connected," Hodgins went on.

"The blood belonged to Brighton Young," Zack put in before Brennan needed to ask.

"Found a few more things on that shirt that might be of some use, I'll get on them," Hodgins spoke before going.

"How'd it go with Mara?" Angela asked Brennan.

"Something's not right. It feels like she knows more sometimes, then it seems like she doesn't. She feels guilty about something, but what it is..."

"Maybe there's a way to get through that," Angela suggested. Brennan looked at her. "Might sound bad, but under the circumstances..."

"What do you have in mind?" Brennan remained open.

x

"Agent Booth?" another agent followed him as he was stepping off the elevator toward his office. Booth stopped. "There's a man here to see you, about the McCrea and Young cases."

The agent led the way. When they arrived, Booth was surprised to find Cole Blaine. After leaving the Blaine home, Booth had checked in with the units, and now back at the FBI, there he was with Blaine again. When he saw Booth, he stood.

"Mara is innocent."

"So you've told me. Doesn't mean I can just..."

"It was me. I did it." Booth shook his head.

"Are you seriously doing this?"

"I stabbed Brighton, repeatedly. I tackled him. Then that woman. She came. I couldn't help it, I pushed her and she fell down the stairs." Booth considered him for a moment, then sat.

"Why?" he simply asked.

"Why?" Cole repeated.

"Why'd you do it? I assume you had motive?" Cole paused, looking down for a moment.

"We just... had an argument, and I lost control."

"Must have really pissed you off." Cole nodded slowly. "Are you covering for your wife, Mr. Blaine?"

"No."

"If you're trying to protect her, maybe for your daughter."

"No," he persisted. "I killed them."

x

"Mara..." She turned in her seat when she heard the familiar voice calling her. Her face lit up some.

"Mr. Jacoby? What are you..."

"Are you alright?" he came to sit with her. "I've called my brother-in-law, he's a lawyer. He'll take care of you." She nodded.

"Thank you," she cried weakly. He took her hands in his. "I'm so confused..."

"You'll get through this."

"Will I?" she questioned.

"You're a good girl. This is not you."

"How can you be so sure?" she shook her head.

"I know you. You take care of all of us. Cole, and Maggie, even an impossible old man like me." That made her laugh. "You're not a killer." Her face fell. "You have to know it."

"That's just it though, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" She closed her eyes.

"I think, I... I..." she shook her head.

"It's alright," he tried to calm her.

"I don't know that I didn't... that I'm innocent. I don't remember."

"What? What don't you remember?"

"That day, the one where Brighton and that girl were killed, I... it's gone," her voice hushed on the last part.

"Gone how?" She stood then, paced a moment.

"I-I remember, the day before. I remember... getting up on the morning, giving Maggie a bath, then..." she frowned. "I remember the phone rang, and then..." her voice trailed. "That's it. The next thing I know of, I woke up next to Cole... morning again."

"Mara..." Mr. Jacoby held out his hand, calling for her to come sit with him.

"What if I did do it, and I just..."

"Mara, listen to me..."

"They'll take her, they'll take Maggie..." she just went on, shaking her head.

"Mara," he made her stop, taking her face in his hands. "You'll be alright. Just keep this to yourself."

It wasn't her decision anymore, keeping this private. Outside, Brennan and Agent Eckers had heard it all, courtesy of the microphone inside. How Agent Eckers had convinced the old man to go along with this... it remained a mystery. But now they knew...

"That's why..." Brennan spoke to herself.

"And now we just have to make her remember."

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 12: To Release the Forgotten

A/N: Epilogue next monday... or earlier ;) Next installment as soon as time allows!

**CHAPTER 12 - To release the forgotten**

The group had gathered back in the lab now, as all new revelations laid out in the open. "Do we have anything to prove either of them did or didn't do it? Anything?" Booth asked the others.

"Right now anything we've got could go either way," Hodgins pointed out.

"I'm aware of that," Booth replied. "Right now, Cole Blaine is taking the fall for his wife, it would seem. But he's got his facts right, so he can claim all he wants."

"Ask him for the murder weapon," Zack suggested.

"He'll say he's tossed it," Booth shook his head.

"We can't just go in assuming someone did or didn't do it without the risk of it influencing the investigation," Brennan pointed out. "Let's just work with what we've got."

"Maybe we should check out those things that were brought back from the site again. We found that shirt... There could be something else," Angela suggested.

"Guess another look couldn't hurt. Might catch something new," Hodgins nodded.

"Alright, there we go," Booth nodded. At that moment, Brennan took hold of his arm, started pulling him aside. "Excuse me," he told the rest of the group. "Bones, what are you..."

"Have they checked the coffee table and the bookcase for prints?"

"At Brighton's?" he asked and she nodded.

"When I was there the first time, I noticed some displacement, I thought it was nothing, maybe he'd done this himself, before leaving, but..."

"I'll call them," he nodded.

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan," they turned to find Zack coming toward them. At the same instant, Booth's phone rang. "Well... never mind, that'll probably be..." he trailed off as Booth answered.

"You did? Alright, thanks," he hung up soon after. "Divers found a knife, in the river where Brighton was thrown. They're sending it over."

"I've already analyzed the stab marks, we should know if it's a match quickly enough."

x

"Is it wrong that I sort of feel bad for her?" Angela asked Hodgins as she watched him work.

"Mara?" She nodded.

"There she was, with a brand new life and a family, and then... I'm not saying what she... may or may not have done was right, but..."

"I know," he nodded.

"Any luck?" she asked, nodding to what he worked on. He looked back as well, with a slight sigh. They'd taken a new direction in the search for evidence. Rather than the retrieved items, they were looking over the pieces of Tilly's clothing, however shredded some of it was. They'd placed it properly, a puzzle of sort.

"Blood, lots of it... Products of her decomp... Soil, and leaves..." Angela nodded along his narration. As she did, she looked down to the end of one of the sleeves. Something caught her eye and she paused. "What?" Hodgins asked, noticing.

"Is that... There's a hair." He came to look.

"Oh baby," he laughed, standing back and kissing her cheek. "Could have been pulled in a struggle." The two seemed relieved, seeing the way things were finally starting to fall into place.

x

The next morning, the group was in full swing, as they now knew a lot more. The previous day had become one full of revelations. Most importantly, they had the evidence to give proof of Mara Blaine's part in the matter.

The knife retrieved from the river had been a match for the wounds in Brighton Young. Though the water had washed away most of the blood and such, some cells had survived, providing DNA. The same could be said of the hair on the sleeve. Both belonged to a single woman, who wasn't Tilly.

Brennan's hunch about the prints had proven itself fruitful, giving prints that were certainly not Brighton's. They gained Mara's prints and DNA through the conveniance of a spoon she'd used as they served her a meal. She'd gone home soon after, back to her daughter while Cole remained in custody.

It was in late afternoon then that they'd come to have the results. Mara and the hair were a match. Mara and the cells, Mara and the prints... all matched. The problem remained though that she didn't recall any of this. Just telling her what they'd found would mean nothing. And then Angela had had an idea.

"Give me until tomorrow morning."

They'd agreed, keeping the discovery hidden. Cole stayed where he was, and so did Mara. Finally the next morning, Booth had called her and asked that she drop by the lab. She appeared hesitant, but in the end she'd agreed. When she'd arrived it was clear she was scared but tried not to let it show. She held a sleeping Maggie close to her. As she sat and waited, Dr. Goodman approached her, sat by her.

"She looks just like you," he smiled after having introduced himself. Mara smiled. "If you'll allow, I'll keep an eye on her while you're in there." That brought concern to her face. "Don't worry, she'll be just fine and waiting for you when you're done." After a moment, she slowly handed her over, her face seemed to register to a point that it might in fact be a while before she held her daughter again.

She was escorted to Angela's office, where she waited along with Booth and Brennan. The four of them gathered around the Angelator.

"What am I doing here?" Mara asked, looking at the massive object before her. A moment later, it glowed to life.

"We have something you should see," Angela told her as she brought up images. Before them there floated a figure with a blank face, and another looking like Brighton. "This is what we can imagine happened." A moment later, the figures began to move.

The figures began to argue, signaled by movement as there was no sound. In one instance, the Brighton figure turned away for a moment, and in that time the faceless figure pulled a knife from the belt of its pants. As Brighton turned back, the figure lunged and stabbed him. The two crashed to the ground before the faceless figure went on stabbing.

Mara watched, mesmerized. More so, the fear in her grew and shifted. She was sort of tranced, whispering drone-like under her breath.

"... four, five, six..."

As the Brighton figure stopped moving and the faceless figure remained, a third image appeared - Tilly. There Booth looked to Brennan as she watched. The Tilly figure paused at the door as the faceless figure stood. 'Tilly' tried to back away, as 'Faceless' took the two stride-long steps to reach her, reaching for her arms. The struggle was brief, ended with a shove from 'Faceless'. 'Tilly' tumbled down the steps, falling still against the simulated home front.

Mara screamed.

x

_TWO WEEKS AGO _

_"Look at you," Mara laughed, watching Maggie squirm in her bath. "You like the water?" she asked with a smirk. "Yeah you do..." Maggie made a bit of a laugh. "Alright, Mermaid Mags, you're done," she pulled her out, wrapping her in a towel. There was something about holding her daughter like this which calmed Mara like nothing else could. She was about to need all the calm and strength she could get._

_The phone rang. After putting Maggie in her crib, she answered. "Hello?"_

_"Hey Mara..."_

_She froze, for two reasons. The first was because she'd recognized the voice as Brighton's. The second alarm went off as his greeting wasn't the customary 'Mrs. Blaine' she'd gotten since he'd moved in but rather the one that had grown to instill panic in her for some months sixteen years before. Those two combined to tell her... he remembered._

_"I know you're still there."_

_"Please..." she shuddered. "Leave me alone."_

_"You remembered me, but I didn't remember you, not until now," his voice was even._

_"Believe me, I wish I didn't remember," she fought to sound in control._

_"Does your husband know?"_

_"Yes, he does," she lied. His laugh told her he was aware of this._

_"I'm not completely unreasonable, I can keep a secret. But I would like for us to have a chance to talk."_

_"I have nothing to say to you," her control improved._

_"This is the option I'm offering. Talk and keep your secret, or ignore me and Cole learns it all." Her hand shook, and she squeezed the phone so not to drop it. For a time there was silence._

_"Okay."_

_They were to meet the next morning. But sitting in her room with Maggie, she couldn't just sit and wait. So she dropped off Maggie with Mr. Jacoby and she went to Brighton's. There was no answer. She stood there for a moment, trying to figure her next move._

_She went to the place she first thought of - the diner. She'd never been there before, even though Grace had mentioned it several times. When she arrived, she spotted the girl with the long red hair and she knew it was Billie._

_When she spoke Brighton's name and the girl's face took on a light panic, her fury toward him only rose. She was informed that he hadn't actually set foot inside the diner for months, but her his routine, he still ate out._

_Mara returned to Brighton's. She used her key and went inside. It was quiet - he wasn't there. So she sat on the couch. From Cole she knew Brighton was set for another of his business trips the next evening - after their talk, which she was precipitating in effect._

_When she heard the door, she stiffened, fearful only for a second. She wasn't going to be that little girl he used to knock around. That girl was gone, and she wouldn't let him unearth her._

_He stepped into the living room, stopped when he saw her. She stood._

_"Surprise," she spoke flatly._

_"Trespassing, really?"_

_"We own this place, we need to verify something."_

_"So your husband knows you're here?" The question shook her up, but she kept it down._

_"What do you want from me?"_

_"I'm trying to make a change in my life." Mara stood sort of slack-jawed for a moment, then released a small laugh._

_"You're unbelievable. Do you call what you did to Grace 'a try to change'?" The look on his face boosted her courage. "I know you killed her. I saw what you did."_

_"All this time?"_

_"I was pregnant. I wasn't going to risk you getting off and coming after me."_

_"I didn't mean to kill her," he grew to a tone she'd come to fear years before. "She didn't leave me a choice!" Mara couldn't believe her ears._

_"And I suppose I forced your hand too? I was twelve! How could you do that to... to a child?"_

_"I think you should go, calm yourself..." he turned to indicate the hall for a moment._

_In that instant, Mara lost herself. She'd bought the knife a few days after Brighton had moved in, though she'd never imagined she'd have to use it. But leaving her home earlier, a split second thought had led her to retrieve it and hide it in the back of her pants. And now she pulled it out. Perhaps it was the click of the blade extending that made him turn back to her when he did. All he managed to see was Mara lunging at him with a great force and a loud cry. A moment later they were tumbling to the ground._

_Outside, Tilly McCrea was slowly nearing the address noted on her list. She folded it back neatly and placed it in her pocket. She climbed the steps, and it was as she reached the top that she saw it wasn't shut, not fully. That concerned her to a degree, but never did it cross her mind not to enter. She pushed the door carefully, taking a few steps before she heard the low heaving sound._

_And then she saw._

_Brighton lay on the floor, blood soaked and quickly pooled in. It was frightening all on its own, but no more than the sight of the woman still kneeling before him, covered with the blood herself. Tilly tried to back away unseen, aware of her response time being compromised. But Mara saw her._

_Her eyes were blank, and yet there was a frightening sort of anger and determination in them. To Mara, though her blood didn't pump anywhere near reason at this time, this was a witness, and that was a threat on her ability to return to her baby girl. The launch came the moment Tilly took a step. Mara took hold of her arm._

_"Can't... you can't..." Mara shook her head. Tilly struggled to get free, did her best._

_"Stop, let me go!" she reached, and her hand caught in Mara's hair, a few strands snapping free. They were getting dangerously close to the steps, but neither would notice._

_"You... won't..." Mara let go of her, only to wind her hands back and rush them forward again. Tilly never had the chance to resist the fall, and before she could even scream, all was quiet. Mara stepped forward, seeing her lying there. She looked around, nervous. No one could know, she had to work... fast._

x

TODAY

Mara screamed, backing away. As the cry rumbled and echoed through the room, Brennan, Booth, and Angela each jumped, startled. Booth was the first to make a move when she quieted, trying to reach her, but every time he made a move she pulled away. The fear in her eyes vibrated.

"What happened?" They turned to find Zack and Hodgins had come running, along with a number of other curious onlookers and a security guard.

"It's fine," Brennan assured them.

Mara now sat on the ground, hands over her lowered head. Booth and Angela were crouching before her, neither making a move.

"Mara?" Booth asked slowly. She whimpered. "Do you remember?"

"I don't... I don't know what I was expecting to happen. He was forcing one to talk to him and I just wanted it to end," she sniffled. "I brought the knife for protection, I wasn't going to... I don't know what happened." They remained silent for a moment.

"I'm going to have to take you in, you know that?" Booth spoke carefully. She looked up at him.

"He's going to know..." she half-whispered. "Cole..."

"I know." She closed her eyes. "He loves you. He was willing to take the fall for you. He'll still be there. That won't change." She remained silent. After a moment, she held out her hands. Booth took them, helped her to her feet. Once this was done, she slowly turned and he cuffed her.

She was read her rights and then escorted out of the Jeffersonian by Booth and Brennan. They went to the FBI. As they went inside, there was Cole waiting. The look on his face before he'd seen Mara made it clear he'd been informed of what had happened as he was released. When he did see his wife, he hurried to her. He placed his arms around her though she couldn't return the gesture at the moment. As he held her, she broke into tears. He held her closer at that.

Booth and Brennan looked to each other. The case was done. Her relief was evident, and so was his. And he knew what was likely to be on her mind. "Go," he nodded. She nodded, heading back out. She got in her car and took off for the safe house.

She just felt like sleeping for a few days. But she couldn't. Not yet...

She arrived at the safe house, expecting to find the lot of them ready to burst, wanting to go home. But what she found was better, so much more so... There were Cristina, Leigh, Sara Lynn, Harley, and Perry, sitting on the couch... happily reminiscing.

"You were quite the prank queen," Harley pointed an accusatory finger at Sara Lynn.

"I resent that," she shook her head as a collective burst of muffled laughter erupted. Cristina spotted Brennan at that time, waved for her to join them.

"Just in time," she nodded.

"We caught Tilly and Brighton's killer," Brennan revealed. They all looked up.

"We knew you would," Leigh smiled as the group reacted with relief and happiness. Brennan smiled back.

"I've missed you guys," she found herself saying. The sentiment was shared, and soon more memories were thrown about.

TBC


	14. Epilogue: To Move On, or On the eve

_A/N: Well, there's the end of this one :) Look for #4, "Hannah saw no devil", in coming... I don't know when exactly, but I'll try to make it not too long ;) In the meantime, I need help finding a sort of title for this series, that will make it easier than going "sequel to TPITT, dichotomy, TAIV..." 'cause there's going to be at least 8 stories in this series so... suggestions anyone:)_

**EPILOGUE - To Move On, or On the eve of a devilish encounter...**

After Tilly's funeral, a few days later, the enlarged group gathered back at her home with Ian and sweet little Carlee. The girl may not have been biologically Tilly's, but they could all see so much of their departed sister in her, in what she was raised to become. She had her strength, though at just seven it could only do so much to cover the wound of having lost her mother.

They had received the book from Cole Blaine's store as Ian was told what had happened to Tilly. Looking at the neatly wrapped package, he had to remember it was from Tilly and not from the husband of her killer. And seeing the glimpse of a smile on Carlee's face when it was given to her was all the confirmation he ever needed.

The collective thought as far as Brennan and the group from the home were concerned seemed to be they could neither forgive nor condemn Mara for what she'd done. The worse was to think of the concept of the chain of events.

Tilly had been so frightened that her actions had caused harm to others, and the truth was the harm had been brought on people she hadn't accounted for, like Mara... and this had led to the events which had precipitated her death before her illness had gotten its turn.

As they'd all sat there, Ian had gotten to tell them about what he knew of 'Tilly and her mission.' "She said she knew the past was the past, and for all she knew you could all have forgotten her... But that was never even a factor. She just wanted to find you, to apologize..."

"Never forgot her," Brennan shook her head, and the motion seemed to follow along the line of the others.

"She didn't have to apologize, we would have understood," Leigh spoke an equally true statement.

"At least her message got through in one way," Ian addressed them. They shared a look, kindred now once more.

x

Brennan had gotten her rest at last. She was back on track and glad to be. It hadn't been an easy few months, with the aftermath of the Kinsley case and the hostage situation. This last case had just been one more thing to add to the slow coming road back to 'normal'. She'd hoped to get back on track.

And now it appeared she would get a respite. It came without a word; it was all in a sight - seeing Zack, working. There was something she could see now, not new but old. She could see he seemed his old self again. And to see this, the part which had remained as reminder in the passing months, gone... she felt at peace as well, so much so that she didn't see Booth approach her at first.

"Thank you," she spoke simply. He nodded quietly.

"Come on, we've got a case." She pulled off her lab coat, following him. It never stopped, and neither did they.

x

Some of them HAD stopped, only for one evening, abandoning any thought of work and death. This was not a hard thing for them to do.

"Marshmallow?" Hodgins held out the bag.

"Yes, please," Angela grinned, fishing for a couple.

"Easy there, Grabby," he gave a nod of the head. She gave a smiling frown and retracted her hand, pried around five large marshmallow puffs.

"See, this is good. And you don't have to worry about wild animals," she bumped him lightly.

"Yes, well we'll see... I don't want to come off as a wimp here... I have gone before... Just gun shy going in there after this... with you," he looked at her. She smiled.

"I'm tougher than I look."

"Don't need to tell me." She laughed, and they lay back, staring up at the sky from the lawn outside their home. And as they lay there, and she slipped a marshmallow in his hands, he knew... he would marry her. He smiled.

"What's with the smile?" she asked.

"Nothing..." he carried on.

x

_A FEW WEEKS LATER_

Hannah Colby stood outside the school, with the other mothers. But looking at them all she just didn't feel like one of them. It was through no fault of theirs - they all loved her - it was her, and she knew. She had sacrificed so much for Sean, and the fact was she wouldn't have it any other way - he was her world.

"Mom!" she suddenly heard, and a smile burst on her face as she saw her eight-year-old son running toward her, the blond hair he'd gotten from her waving about as he ran.

"Hey Big Man," she wrapped her arms around him, kissing the top of his head before they walked off hand in hand. "Did you have a good day?"

"it was okay," he shrugged.

"Just 'okay'? Well, we'll have to do something about that... pizza?"

"From Angelo's?" he brightened.

"From Angelo's," she repeated with a laugh.

It would be their last evening together.

**THE END**


End file.
